Paper Faces
by jjhatter
Summary: A chaptered companion story/sequel to "Thriller Night." Love never dies. But it does have its trials...especially when you're a cat and a mouse... R&R! NOW INCLUDES AN EPILOGUE.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! Good day! Bonjour! Allow me to present my newest work, _Paper Faces,_ being a companion to my last work, _Thriller Night_. As always, I ask you, the readers who make my day, to read and review. That is all…enjoy!

Warning/Notice: This story will be chaptered. The first part, which is what you are about to read, is very morbid and may be disturbing to some readers. You have been warned and notified.

Rating: T (FOR GOOD REASON!)

Disclaimer: If I owned _Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland_, would I even be on this site? Not likely! The song here is _Stranger Than You Dreamt It_ from _Phantom of the Opera._ I have altered the lyrics just slightly for the story. I do not own the song either. The rights for that go to Andrew Lloyd Weber. Please, don't sue me!

Summary: Love never dies. But it does have its trials, especially that between a cat and a mouse… Chessur/Mallymkun.

**Chapter I: Devil's Eyes**

Mallymkun was running through Tulgey Woods. She wasn't running FROM anything, though…rather, she was running TO something. To someone. To Chessur.

The dormouse hadn't seen the cat since (a particularly thrilling) Frighetnacht. She'd fallen asleep at some point, still lying against him, his furry body coiled like a snake about her own, and awoken back in bed in her teapot house. That was four days ago.

She had to find him. She had something to tell him…he needed to know. Maybe he already did know, but she wanted to know how he felt…she needed to.

Tarrant refused to come.

"If tha' _slurvish_ feline gut himself lost, good riddance!" he'd snorted. For the first time in her life, Mallymkun wished she was human, so she could slap the Mad Hatter across the face.

She settled for stepping on his finger, and ran off before his confusion and surprise could change into fury. She didn't even bother to ask Thackery; the Hare wouldn't leave the tea table for anything unless Tarrant gave the okay. He hated to leave in the middle of the party.

Mally stopped only when she reached the area of the Woods she knew Chessur would likely be in: it was a mile or so from his house, west from the burbling brook, a grove of orange trees that, from the air, looked like three intertwined circles. She'd seen the Cheshire Cat here more than anywhere else when she travelled through the woods, so she figured that if Chess wasn't here, he'd be home.

"Chessur! Chess! Are you there? I want to talk to you!"

"Hello, breakfast…"

Mally froze and looked around. That was the cat's voice, but he hadn't spoken to her like that before…ever. (Well…not for a long time, anyway.) Cautiously, she reached for her pin-sword.

"Don't bother…"

Mally stopped. The cat's voice was at a distance, in the circle farthest from her. She rolled her eyes, smiling, thinking that Chess was playing one of his pranks on her, and followed the sound of his voice. But as she got closer to his voice's sound, she became less sure of whom he was speaking to…

"Wow. That's got to hurt…again! And again! Hold on just one minute…_that_ looked like it hurt even more…OW! _Slurking _little…! You SCRATCHED me! Now _that _was just plain rude! Looks like I'll have to teach you some manners…"

By the time Mally got to the third and final circle, she was fairly certain Chess wasn't talking to her. She was behind a tree, and from how close his voice sounded, guessed he was on the other side. Her heart seemed to be skipping a few beats with anxiety; she could hear Chessur purring, and amidst his purrs she heard a soft, cooing, whining noise, like an animal – definitely not the Cheshire Cat – whimpering in pain and/or fear. She paused, and felt herself take a breath, as she whipped around the tree to see…

Time slowed. Stopped. Her heart did a double-take. Her stomach flip-flopped. Her white fur became even paler than usual.

There sat Chessur, his claws and fur covered in blood. What had once been a bird, now plucked of all its feathers, its tears mingling with the blood pouring from its body, was in his grip. It looked at him, hopeless and pleading. Bright blue feathers covered the ground.

There was murder in the cat's eyes. For the first time ever, Mallymkun saw him as the feral and ferocious killer of birds and mice he was.

Why was it so hard to breathe suddenly?

"Well, little one," purred Chess in a cruel and twisted tone of voice to the bird, "I'm feeling very hungry, and my stomach very much wants to see you, so I guess that means the party's over. We had fun though, right?"

The bird said nothing. It made another cooing whine and closed its eyes.

"Well…perhaps a smidgen more fun for me than for you…I'm just guessing, really, seeing as how you're being awfully quiet. Anyway…do me a favor, will you?"

The bird opened its eyes and looked at the cat quizzically, hopefully. Chessur's smile now revealed each and all of his teeth. His voice dropped to a husky, dark whisper. His words shattered the bird's last hopes.

"Please, tell God I said…HELLO. _Fairfarren!_"

And without another word, Chessur opened his mouth and tossed the mutilated blue bird inside. He chewed a few times, and then swallowed. He opened his mouth again and let out a pleased purr.

His teeth were tinted scarlet.

Mally wretched, and clapped a paw over her mouth.

Chessur froze. Tensed. Slowly, he turned towards Mallymkun.

His eyes flamed with hurt and rage. Mally gulped instinctively.

_Keep calm,_ part of her said. _He won't hurt you. He was just hungry, and he IS a cat. He won't hurt you…_

_Run!_ another part screamed. _Run, Mally! Run, before you become his lunch!_

_Fight!_ a third part roared. _Fight, you foolish girl! You saw what he did! He killed that bird, he tortured it, show him the same pain!_

Between the three, she was frozen.

"You…j-just…" she choked, and stopped, speechless and shocked.

Chessur growled, eyes narrowing into thin slivers of aquamarine. Without warning, he pounced, hissing loudly. Mally reached for her pin-sword…too late! The dormouse found herself pinned tight beneath a bloody paw, the cat above her, glaring at her with a wild, crazed look. All semblance of the Chessur she knew was gone from those eyes; instead, she saw an angry, ravenous beast.

"BLAST YOU!" he shrieked. "YOU LITTLE PRYING PANDORA! YOU LITTLE DEMON! IS _THIS_," he gestured at his dripping fangs, "WHAT YOU WANTED TO SEE?"

Before Mally could respond in any way, the cat picked her up and slammed her against a tree. She gasped in pain, her breath stolen from her. And there was the cat, one of his blood-stained claws on her jugular, dangerous and angry and horrifying and…

"CURSE YOU! YOU LITTLE LYING DELILAH! YOU LITTLE _VIPER!_" spat the cat, splattering her with blood and saliva. _"NOW YOU CANNOT EVER GO FREE!"_

He pulled back his claw, as if to impale her through the neck. She closed her eyes, sucking in a small breath. This was it. The one she had once considered to be, at the very least, her dearest and oldest friend was going to kill and eat her.

But Chessur didn't strike. He slowly lowered his claw, eyes widening with his pupils, his bristling fur flattening out.

_In the name of Mirana,_ he thought. _What am I doing?_

He was hurting her. HIS friend. HIS dormousey. HIS Mallymkun. HIS.

With a soft snarl of self-recrimination, he dropped her and turned away. He whirled, his claws slashing at a tree and breaking off a branch.

"Blast you…" he growled, now speaking to himself. "Curse you…"

He licked his teeth, cleaning them of the blood he was sure still lingered and swallowing it down to join the body it came from. Mally just stared at him, hoping her eyes didn't reveal the horror she felt.

Then, for reasons even he did not know of, Chessur began to sing. His velvety voice was broken with tears:

"_Stranger than you dreamt it, can you even dare to LOOK? Or bear to THINK of me, this loathsome GARGOYLE, who BATHES in death, but, secretly, yearns for heaven? Secretly, secretly…"_

He took a deep, coppery breath and turned to her. The disgust and betrayal in her eyes made him flinch.

"Sweet Mally…"

Mallymkun squeaked and fled, crying bitterly. Chess sighed.

"Yes," he murmered sadly. "Run. Run, before I can hurt you again."

Chessur leaned against the tree, his forehead on the bark. He exhaled through his nose, the scent of birdy blood strong in his nostrils. He sang another verse:

"_Fear may yet turn to love. She'll learn once again to find the truth beneath the monster…this repulsive feline, who seems a beast, but, secretly, dreams of being loved. Secretly, secretly…"_

He stared at the feathers scattered around, and picked one up. It was white; once it had been a tail feather. He ran a claw along its soft, downy edge.

"Sweet Mally," he murmered, his guilt now overwhelming his being. "I _will_ make it up to you…somehow. I swear it…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: So Lost, So Helpless…**

Mallymkun was still crying when she reached the tea table outside the windmill. Thackery had taken her into his windmill and cleaned her up at the sink, washing off all the bird blood and Cheshire Cat saliva from her skirt, blouse, and apron. He had been surprisingly quiet at it, almost sane. Tarrant did not help; needless to say, he was not pleased when he heard the dormouse say the words, "Chessur…he hurt me…Tarrant…", in a trembling, quivering voice. He had set off into the woods, cursing wildly in Outlandish, eyes like molten fire. Mally didn't even try to stop him. He returned soon, much calmer, but his eyes were still rimmed in red. Once the gore and fluid had been cleaned from her clothes, she cried herself to sleep.

An awful lot of tears, as she hadn't cried at all for quite a long time.

The next day after, she refused to leave her home. When the March Hare tried to coax her out with a spoon, he was stuck in the paw with the pin-sword for his troubles. The dormouse did not exit the tea pot she called a house for anything, not to eat, not to drink, not to talk…

The following day, after being (calmly) asked by the Hatter to come out, she complied, claiming she was very hungry after having not eaten at all the day before. That day was relatively normal, although the dormouse was quiet and reserved.

One thing one must know about Mallymkun: she was NEVER reserved. Needless to say, her silence puzzled and worried the other two party-goers.

"Whatcha kin is th' matter?" whispered Thackery Earwicket to Tarrant Hightopp.

"I'm not sure," answered the Mad Hatter, eyes now baby blue. "Her muchness just seems to have…gone…"

On the fourth day, she asked Tarrant if she could go to the burbling brook. She liked it there; the quiet mumblings of the water to itself calmed her, and the coolness of the brook water relaxed her mind. Tarrant was nearly stupefied by her question, and the yellow flecks in his neon green irises showed it: Mallymkun had never, NEVER EVER, asked him for permission to do ANYTHING before.

It was now official: something was very wrong with Mallymkun. Still, if she wanted to go relax…

"Certainly," he had answered, faking a smile. "But don't be late for tea!"

"Tea!" blurted out the March Hare, flinging a loaf of bread into the air and laughing wildly. Mally smiled at them both and nodded, and then left without a word.

She stopped at the bank of the brook and sat down, staring into the whispering current. She sighed deeply.

"Chessur…"

Why had he hurt her? Was it because she had found him eating? If so, why, still?

Maybe he wanted to eat _her?_ Was that what it was all about? Was he afraid that when she saw him devour the bird, after tormenting it no less, that she would see that? Was that all she was to him? A TOY? The thought sickened her.

He'd been so possessive of her…so fond of that pet name he knew she hated…so protective of her from other cats...perhaps she really _was_ just a toy to him. A plaything. A snack he was saving for later. Along with the Hare and the Hatter, he had been the one to dry her tears on the Horunvendush day. He had shown her magic no one else had time for. Was it all a lie? His soothing words, his promises of friendship? Had it all been a ploy?

And when he got tired of her…would she end up like the blue bird? Battered, broken, bleeding…in short, dead? Would she, too, become his dinner? He'd eaten many other dormice; he'd told her so. He often joked about making her a meal…had they REALLY been jokes?

She sighed again and placed her paws in the water. She closed her eyes and scooped up some water, brought it to her lips, and took a drink. When she opened her eyes again, she was more than a little startled to see the very same Cheshire Cat that haunted her thoughts reflected in the water.

He was standing right behind her.

She whirled around fast…too fast, in fact. She fell on her backside and stared up, eyes wide, heart pounding, for once in her little lifetime forgetting about the pin-sword at her waist. He looked back into her eyes, his expression blank. Unreadable.

For a long time, nothing happened. The burbling of the brook was all that could be heard.

"Will you please move away just a bit?" asked the cat at last, in a flat voice. "I'd like a drink of water."

Mally nodded slowly, gulped, and stood up, backing up hastily.

"Thank you," growled Chessur, his face still a blank page to her, and bent down, lapping up the water with his long, pink tongue.

Again, there was silence.

"Why are you here?" asked Mally, her fear slowly giving way to anger. How could he show himself to her again, after what he'd done to her? HER, whom he had sworn to protect after he'd abandoned all others? How could he…

The Cheshire Cat made no reply. He didn't even look at her.

"I'm not going to forgive you, if that's why you're here. You hurt me. Badly."

The cat glanced at her quickly with those brilliant, blue-green eyes, and then returned his gaze to the brook.

"Have you _nothing_ to say?" snarled Mally, her temper rising the longer the feline remained silent. Chess stopped drinking and licked his lips before wiping them with the back of one smoky paw. Mally couldn't help but notice the lack of blood on his claws and fur. Not even a speck remained. The cat cleaned up carefully.

"Only this," said Chessur, dryly. "I want you to know that I regret hurting you with all of my heart. I never would have done such a thing under different circumstances. Suffice it to say I wasn't in a very…" he cleared his throat. "Civilized state of mind. I know very well you won't forgive me now, if ever, at least not readily…but I am sorry. This is all."

Mally could have sworn she felt her blood boiling.

"You _guddlers scut,"_ she growled. The cat looked at her with some alarm.

"'Sorry?' Is that the best that you can do? Is that _all_ the great Chessur the Cheshire Cat can come up with? _'Sorry?'_ You could've KILLED me! You were going to EAT ME! And all you can say is that you're _'SORRY?'_"

"Mally, please…"

The pin-sword was an inch from his nose.

"NEVER. CALL ME. MALLY. AGAIN! Only my FRIENDS call me Mally!"

The cat cringed.

_Well_, he thought cynically. _That stung._

"…Ms. Dormouse," he tried, patiently. "Please, hear me out…I am nothing if not your friend…"

_**"THEN YOU ARE NOTHING!"**_

Chessur's heart felt like it had snapped in half. He sighed and turned away, ears dipped and pupils perfectly circular.

"I'll be in touch," he said softly, slowly. "But, if you wish never to see me again, that is easily arranged."

This brought Mally back into reality, and her fury dissipated.

"Chessur, no. I…I…"

The cat lifted a paw in silence. He swallowed, and, in a broken voice, spoke two words with a finality the dormouse hoped she'd never hear:

"_Fairfarren…_dormousey."

SWOOMPH. Chess evaporated.

For a few seconds, Mally just stood there, stunned. Then it dawned on her: Chess was gone. Really, truly gone…

"Chessur? Chessur!" she called out. "Chessur, come back! Please, come back! Chess…I'm sorry…come back!"

But the cat did not reappear. Mally felt her pin-sword fall from her hands and dropped to her knees, her head hung down.

"Chess…please, come back…I need you here…"

Still no cat. She sighed, and that sigh became a sob.

_"I'm Alone in the Universe…so Alone in the Universe…"_


	3. Chapter 3

Notice: Hello, my fine friends and readers! A few things before the fun starts: one, and as you may have guessed, there will be several songs and/or references to songs in this story, most of them from musicals. In the last chapter, it was _Alone in the Universe _from _Seussical._ I don't own it. (Wish I did.) Today's tune is written by me, but set to _Jack's Obsession_ from _Nightmare Before Christmas._ (Again, don't own it, but wish I did.) Two, for those who are wondering what Chess is planning, I dedicate this. It's a bit more lighthearted than the last two chapters, so that you know. And now that that's settled, allow me to present unto you wonderful people…

**Chapter III: To Be Lonely**

"Foolish…dumb…_slurvish…_idiotic…"

Chessur the Cheshire Cat had been saying this over and over again for over four hours nonstop. He was pacing about his house. He wished he'd made it bigger…he was finished with the first trip before he'd finished the second word. Too short a time for him to chastise himself properly, he thought.

He'd tried everything to forget. He'd banged his head against the wall until he thought his skull would crack. He'd read through twenty three-inch thick books with words he couldn't understand in them, TWICE. He'd clawed at trees and punched his door until his claws and knuckles were skinned and bleeding…and _still_ she was there, in his mind. Still she was there…

How could he have been such a fool? Such a dolt? Such an _idiot? _He didn't regret killing, plucking, breaking and devouring the little blue bird…far from it, actually. He was a cat. Scones, tarts, tea and milk were all very nice, but he needed meat – BLEEDING meat – to survive. It was a curse he was usually proud of, as the little ones doomed to become his meals tragically found out.

Note the word "usually."

No, the bird didn't matter to him at all. Indeed, he had almost forgotten about it. But _she _had to see. And he _would_ lose his temper at the wrong time! He'd never get it; why was his anger so controllable at the wrong times, and at the same time so rampant in the wrong kind of situation to explode?

The worst part was that he knew what he had been thinking, and that brought him the most fury and the most guilt. His mind, intoxicated by the scent of avian blood, had been set on a single channel at the time: kill, chew, swallow. This was never something that brought him grief…until now.

Why HER? Why, oh, why did it have to be HER he'd wanted to kill? Had wanted to chew? Had wanted to swallow?

And, while he was at it, when had he asked so many questions of himself before?

He sighed. He seemed to be thinking to himself more and more often lately. He felt he might just go mad and end it.

Why did that thought spark a sort of guilty pleasure?

Because he deserved it. He deserved to lose his mind. He deserved to be lonely. And he deserved it because he had hurt HER. Mind! He had hurt many, many others like her, and in more ways than one, but he never even gave them a second thought. He had hurt HER, his sweet, dear dormousey. That was all that mattered.

Hold on…since when did his life center around a _dormouse?_

Good lord…maybe he already WAS mad!

He might as well have been, he figured. It was better than being nothing.

_You are nothing!_

Her words repeated themselves over and over again in his head like a vile mantra. She'd never forgive him. Not now. She'd said so. She HATED him. And, worst of all…he FRIGHTENED her. The thought was almost laughable; when he'd first met her, she knew of his carnivorous and sadistic nature, but it wasn't until she saw him work his talents upon another creature that she'd been afraid of him. Laughable and sad, all at once.

He sighed once more. It was over. Their conversations, the parties, and worst of all, the feeling of the dormouse against the large, warm belly he once wanted to put her in (the morbid idea never left his mind, though it no longer gave him pleasure)…over. The "game" he'd been playing was over. That was what he'd always considered it…a game. The biggest game he'd ever play. And now he'd never even get to finish it.

She'd never want him now…now that he gave the matter thought, maybe she never HAD. He'd left her for dead once. And now he'd tried to rip her to pieces. Besides, she had Tarrant. And Thackery, too. And then the countless (and rather succulent looking) dormice and other rodents that worked in the White Palace as maids and even a few low-ranking military dormice (guards and such that would be no match for him, if he really were to try anything)…how could such a beautiful and delicate, and yet equally tough and even somewhat intimidating creature as Mallymkun ever love him? The fact was plain as the nose on his whiskered face: he was a cat. She was a rodent. They were lucky to be friends…now, they weren't even THAT anymore…

The last thought caused him to growl softly.

"_Her wicked words are buzzing around my skull,_" he muttered. "_Will they let me be? I cannot tell. There's something about her I just can't grasp…and, just when I thought I had it then, alas! Through my furry fingers she has slipped, like snow inside the Jabberwocky's grip! Something there I can't quite get! I try to, but I can't forget! Will she ever learn of my love at last? I had her one moment, and she was gone in a flash! I must win her back! I must win her back!"_

Chess stopped abruptly.

"Oh, great," he hissed, putting his face in his paw. "NOW I'm speaking in rhyme!"

He had to get out. He needed some fresh air…

Songbirds chirped and twittered. The sun shone brightly, and not a cloud could be seen in the pale blue sky of the Tulgey Woods. Had he not been so deep in thought and depressed, Chessur probably would have commented on the how beautiful the day was. He floated up into a tree and watched some bread-and-butterflies twirl and flitter about among the leaves. He took a deep breath, and decided that, as long as he'd started a song or a poem, he might as well finish it with the rest of his thoughts…

_"Fishes, birds, dormice, and rats…their minds are nutshells for me to crack! The games I play disgust her so! Confound it all! I love them though!"_

A rustle in the bushes caught his attention. He evaporated, remaining in the tree but invisible. Out scampered a small, rather scholarly looking dormouse in a green vest – clearly not Mallymkun, and, as he surmised from its (rather poor) choice of clothes, male in gender. Chess was surprised; surely a _rodent, _of all creatures, would know better than to come near _his_ domain!

He was right. The rodent must have had an appointment or date of some sort and taken a wrong turn; it gulped, turned, and tried to tip-toe away from his lair.

Even depressed, Chess wasn't going to let THAT happen any time soon.

_Well_, he thought in a hopeless manner._ Might as well have a snack. Can't make things any worse…_

Chess jumped down, reappearing mid-leap, and landed with one paw on the dormouse. The poor little creature struggled and begged, clawing at the ground with its paws, its little green vest getting covered in dirt and crushed grass.

Chess paid no heed. He picked it up and lay on his back, flipping the pitiful thing between his paws idly as he sang softly to himself.

_"Toys to me,"_ he murmered. _"Nothing more! But sweet Mally's got something more…something I have rarely seen! Something I feel when she's with me! I must win her back!…Can I win her back?"_

Briefly, he stopped his toying, the little one trying to catch its breath for another long line of useless pleas.

"Can I win her back?" her murmered, almost forgetting about the tiny luncheon in his paws until he heard it let out a squeak that might have been a breathless call for help. He was so bored and upset, he didn't even care to notice. For once, playing with the creature gave him no joy.

"Might as well eat you now…" he said, not caring a penny if the dormouse heard him or not. (It seemed to, for its struggles increased, though he hardly noticed them.) His mind buzzed like a horde of angry wasps. A low snarl escaped his throat.

_"I've thought of how I'll make it up for quite some time! Can trusting my instincts really be called a crime? I've memorized entire speeches, all by heart…and each one makes me want to tear myself apart! No matter what I plan out, something is wrong…so hard to get my cursed claws upon…"_

Chessur curled the tail of the dormouse around one of his claws and dangled it upside down in the air. It whimpered, but he really didn't hear. It was quite unamusing for a toy…

He was just about to drop it onto his tongue and grant it a quick demise between his teeth, but stopped abruptly. Something about the color of the fur…it gave him…IDEAS…

Ashen gray…like _his…_

The Cheshire Cat's grin widened to a nearly impossible length. His eyes glittered. The rodent gulped. NOW what was going to happen…?

"Or…perhaps," murmered Chess, and his voice became frenzied and excited at the idea as it bloomed in his head. _"Perhaps the wound is not as deep as I've led myself to think! Have I been thinking much too hard?"_

The solution struck him like a lightning bolt, and he dropped the dormouse. It promptly fainted.

_"Of course! I've been too upset to see! The answer's right in front of me! RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!"_

Chess was bubbling with excitement as he ran back into his house. Out of his cupboard he grabbed a sketchpad, a pen, and some oil pastels. He was no artist; he was more of a quick sketcher than an intricate designer or detailer. Still, when the muse struck, he liked to make things.

This, he decided, would be different. This would be a masterpiece.

_"It's simple, really! Very clear, like music drifting in the air, invisible but everywhere!"_

He sat at his table and began to work, drawing quickly as his excitement grew, but taking great care to avoid any errors in his effort. He chuckled softly…

_"Just because she CANNOT see me…doesn't mean she WILL NOT see me! You know, the salmon I've eaten sing that love's not as tricky as it seems! And why should they have all the fun? Love should belong to anyone! NOT ANYONE IN FACT, BUT __**ME**__! Why, I made Mally laugh and sing! And there's no reason I can find that this plan won't work to do so again in time! I BET IT WILL __**IMPROVE **__US, TOO! SAY! __**THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I'LL **_**DO!**_"_

Chessur laughed as he sat back to look over his work: Mallymkun, in a wedding dress, holding a smoky gray dormouse in a blue suit by the hand.

On its face was a wide, toothy grin.

The game WASN'T over…it hadn't even begun!


	4. Chapter 4

Notice: GASP! A chapter without a song! Well, as always, read and review, _man fairamis!_ Enjoy! And now…

**Chapter IV: Playing Masquerade**

Mallymkun was not happy. Not at all. The tum-tum tree felt her fury with every scratch it was inflicted with from her pin-sword.

"Idiotic…_slurvish_…dumb…foolish…"

Mallymkun had been saying this over and over and over again as she swung her blade about wildly. Having woken up that morning, she needed to vent her fury. If Tarrant or Thackery saw her like this, they would be even more worried than they already were.

She didn't want them worried. Especially not Tarrant. He and the Hare were crazy enough, she didn't want to completely snap their minds. Besides, she didn't need their worry. She could handle it.

Couldn't she?

Who cared? All she knew was that, right now, she was very, VERY angry. Angry at herself.

She'd never been angry at herself before.

The scene replayed over and over: Chess finding her at the brook, his apology…and her rage, the rage that, in essence, killed the cat. She'd exploded at him, and now he'd never come back. She was used to not seeing him all the time…but to never see him again, and all because of her beastly temper, was too much.

She had every right to be angry with him, of course. He HAD tried to kill her. It wasn't the first time, though; their first meeting in particular hadn't been very pleasant. But once they became friends, both had tried – and, for the most part, succeeded – at forgetting the past and moving on. And, on the Horunvendush Day, after abandoning her and many others, he came back and swore to protect her – if only her – and see to it nothing would harm her if he could help it.

And then HE hurt her himself.

But he had also regretted it! (Another slice in the bark.) He'd told her he regretted it, he'd asked for her forgiveness, although he had also known better than to expect it from her then. He'd apologized! He'd practically begged her to allow him to remain her friend, and _what _did she say to him?

She sighed.

"He isn't nothing. He's everything."

She knew why he'd hurt her. He'd said it.

_I wasn't in a very…civilized state of mind._

So calm. So placid. So softly-spoken in his confession. And for some reason, that had only made her angrier at the time. But was he really to blame? In a way, he was; a Cheshire Cat cannot change its stripes. He was still a predator, still a carnivore, still an enemy of many animals.

But he was also Chessur. Her friend. And, now, perhaps even more…

She had been pacing, and stopped, sheathing her blade. She spoke the words that had once needed to be spoken, and came too late.

"I love him…"

The thought was somewhat sickening. But, at the same time, it warmed her like the feeling of his large, furry, and – dare she think it – _beautiful_ body and tail wrapped about her frame, like a snake around a rabbit, but without the unspoken threat. She sighed again, this time fondly, as she remembered that feeling. His purring…his heartbeat…his warmth…his smile…to any other rodent in her position, the idea of being that close to the cat was a mortifying thought. To her, though…it was bliss. He would be there, she knew for sure now, to dry her tears. To comfort her. To support her in the face of adversary.

This sickened her, also, because she knew that he'd never do so now. If he had ever even wanted her…THAT way before, as his love and mate, until time ended, he wouldn't want her now.

And, when she thought about it, he probably never did. Cheshire Cats were rare, but there were, doubtless, females ripe for the picking that would swan over a cat like Chessur. He was rather big – and not in a bad way – for a cat, and that would appeal to any female.

It both frightened her and also appealed to her. HER.

But how could he love _HER?_ He was a cat. She was a dormouse. They were lucky to be friends, and now they weren't even that. How could a feline ever fall in love with its prey? She figured that, at least now, if she ever confessed love to him, he'd be disgusted by her. She'd never have him. A tiny dormouse would never be a proper mate for him. He'd sooner take Tarrant's hat…and, more than likely, he'd sooner make her his midnight snack than his bride. (Well, _now_ he would, anyway…)

The thoughts she had so depressed her, she wasn't even aware of the presence behind her crawling out from behind a tree.

"Excuse me, but are you all right?"

Mally snapped around, whipping out her pin-sword again. A dark gray dormouse – a male, she guessed – stood before her, an expression of surprise and confusion on his whiskery face. It wore a blue suit and derby hat with a purple hatband. He paused before straightening out the blue bow tie about his thin neck and smiling slightly.

"Well," he said, his voice so soft it pained her ears. "If you didn't like me asking, you only had to say so."

Mallymkun eyed the newcomer doubtfully. She sheathed her sword. The second dormouse didn't seem very threatening…

"No, it's fine," she said, a bit peevishly. "You just startled me, is all."

"My apologies, madam," said the dormouse in his soft voice, bowing just a little. He smiled at her in a manner that seemed to ooze friendliness. "And, unless I'm so direly mistaken you'd skewer me with that blade, you are Mallymkun?"

"I still may!" growled Mally, once again suspicious, fingers brushing the hilt of her pin-sword. "How do you know my name?"

"Now, there's no need for hostility," said the blue-suited dormouse. "Besides which, every self-respecting rodent in Underland knows about the great Mallymkun, the only dormouse in the Underland Underground Resistance, who killed the terrible Jub-Jub Bird with the help of the Bloodhound, Bayard."

Mally released her sword's hilt, but said nothing for a time.

"What's your name?" she finally inquired of the gray dormouse, still wary.

"Russehc," said the dormouse, bowing again. "Now and always at your service, madam."

Mally couldn't help it. She smiled, although just slightly.

"You seem like the right gentleman, don't you?"

"I try to be so in the presence of a lady, and especially one of such reputation as yours," replied the male, tipping his hat with a charming grin.

"You know, a cat lives around here," said Mallymkun, wondering if perhaps this dormouse was just another fool, stunned by her beauty. It was rare to find a dormouse with her sense of adventure and, at her worst, slight amount of bloodlust. The only exceptions were the guards she herself trained for the White Queen, and they saw her as their teacher, not a potential mate.

The other rodent seemed to be unfazed by the information. In fact, he smiled wider.

"Yes, I know. We've met. He seemed quite pleasant, for a feline. If he wasn't looking to put my flesh and blood in his belly, I might have come to like him. I escaped by biting his knuckle."

Mally smirked. If she ever did see Chess again, she'd give him a good teasing about this. To her knowledge, she was the only dormouse to have escaped the cat. The rest he'd let go or eaten. (Mostly eaten.)

"I like you," she said in a more friendly tone of voice. "Where are you from?"

"I'm from around here, actually. I live in a hole about seventeen yards along the bank of the burbling brook. You know the spot?"

"I know where the brook is, if that's what you mean. I go there often."

"Perhaps I'll see you sometime, then," said Russehc. "_Fairfarren, _Ms. Mallymkun."

Russehc tipped his hat again with a nod of his head and a flashing smile and turned away.

"Wait!"

Russehc looked surprised anew by Mallymkun's call. Mallymkun was surprised herself.

_Whatever did I do that for?_

"Yes?"

"Um…uh…" faltered Mally, and then, flatly said. "I like your hat."

"Why, thank you!" smiled the other dormouse, looking very proud. "I bought from a member of the Hightopp Clan itself, just before the Horunvendush Day. I treasure it dearly. Sussen, I think was her name…"

"You knew Sussen Hightopp?"

"Well…as a customer. I never knew any Hightopp personally, but I did find their skills quite lovely."

"Have…did you ever know…Tarrant Hightopp?"

"No, can't say I did," said Russehc, after thinking for a moment. "Isn't he the one who defeated the Knave of Hearts on the Frabjous Day?"

"Yes! He and I are dear friends."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that at least one Hightopp did survive! I was certain the report of one defeating Illosovic Stayne the Knave was just a myth…perhaps I'll ask him if I can buy a hat, sometime! Well, goodbye!"

The gray mouse turned again.

"Wait!"

"Yes, madam?"

"Er…would you…like some lunch?"

The dormouse stopped cold. He gazed at Mallymkun intently.

"I'd be honored to share lunch with you," he said in a smooth and humble voice.

Mally smiled.

"Follow me. I think I can introduce you to Mr. Tarrant Hightopp, if you'd care to take tea with us."

The dormouse's eyes twinkled.

"As I said, I'd be honored. Lead the way, madam."

Mally smiled and lead the way. Her smile faded as she turned her back to the male.

_Why did I invite him to tea?_ she thought, baffled by her uncharacteristically instant liking to the newcomer. She'd never been so trusting so fast unless she was introduced to someone by a friend. (And even then, she didn't like them all that quickly, if at all.) Still, she scampered off, waving a paw to indicate to the other dormouse that he should follow her.

As she never turned around, she never saw Russehc's grin widen as he followed her.

Instead of the shovel or axe blade shaped teeth of most other rodents, he instead had in his mouth two rows of long, sharp fangs.

_All according to plan,_ he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Notice: Another chapter without a song! Don't fret, music lovers! There will be more music later! Presenting…

**Chapter V: Welcome to the Tea Party**

Tarrant was getting worried. His eyes were as purple as plums with it.

It wasn't Alice he was worried about, for once. Or the White Queen. Or his next hat design. Or even Time. Strangely enough, it was Mallymkun he was worried about.

He knew he shouldn't have been worried; he knew the dormouse very well. She was very capable of taking care of herself in a scuffle, duel, or other such situation.

It was her emotions she couldn't control. In that way, he and she were very much alike. The real difference between them – besides, obviously, size and species – was that Mally was just a tad more capable of honing her emotions, keeping them on track, whereas the Hatter could never slam the brakes fast enough to prevent a crash. This was why they got along so well; when Mallymkun cried, so did the Mad Hatter. And when Tarrant was overexcited or angry, it was usually the dormouse who brought him back down to earth.

The March Hare was worried, too. And he didn't need mood-ring eyes to show it or a changing voice. Thackery had always been more physical than Tarrant or Mally in his expressions. Right now, the Hare was sipping from a teacup, eyes constantly darting in the direction Mallymkun had gone. He jumped and jabbered wildly in Outlandish at every noise, and softly whimpered. (This was about every 12 seconds.)

Neither had spoken at all since the dormouse had left the table. She didn't look at either of them, and her voice was a growl as she said, "I need some practice." She seemed most upset, but the Mad Hatter couldn't fathom why…

His eyes darkened.

Yes. Actually, yes, he could fathom why.

It was that _slurvish guddlers scut_ of a _slurking shukm juggling_ cat. It had to be.

Tarrant had very good reason to be upset with Chessur. He and the cat had been friends almost as long as the Hare and the Hatter. But after the Cheshire Cat fled the horror of the Horunvendush Day, he felt his temper rise each time he glimpsed the feline's ever-lasting grin.

Now the mere _thought_ of Chess made Tarrant angry. He couldn't BELIEVE the feline's deception! Did his treachery know no bounds? He'd known about the promise he'd made to the dormouse following the destruction of Hightopp's Land. And now he'd tried to kill her. He'd abandoned her, he'd sworn to watch her, and now HE'D NEARLY _KILLED_ HER!

Tarrant's eyes reddened. If he ever saw Chessur again, he'd strangle him. Slowly.

"Hatter!"

"I'm fine," he mumbled, and then realized it had been the March Hare who'd called to him. He looked up and noticed the Hare dancing in his chair, laughing wildly and pointing.

Confusing…

The Hatter looked out in the direction Thackery pointed and smiled. Mally was returning from the Tulgey Woods. He smiled a bit wider at the sight of the gray dormouse in the blue suit and hat that followed her.

_A guest…_

"Get enough practice, Mally?" he asked as the white dormouse hopped up onto the tea table, her companion following closely.

"Yes. Yes I did, Hatter."

"Yer late!" shrieked Thackery, and tossed a scone at the white rodent, who ducked the flying pastry almost by instinct.

"Sorry, Thackery."

"Yes, yes, and who's your friend?" asked the Hatter, gesturing at the darker dormouse as he took an empty cup and poured some tea.

"Allow me to introduce myself," said the other dormouse – a male – in a voice so soft it cut the air like a knife and butter. "My name is Russehc. A humble dormouse from Tulgey Woods. And you, sir, are Mr. Tarrant Hightopp, the royal milliner?"

Tarrant stared over the rim of his cup as he took a drink.

"I am. How do you know me?"

"I _didn't_, sir. I only guessed when I saw your hat. That, and Ms. Mallymkun invited me for tea and mentioned you would be attending."

The Mad Hatter looked over at Mallymkun quizzically. She didn't look back. She filled a miniature cup with tea and added some cream.

"He said he knew Sussen."

Tarrant gaped. _Sussen? _As in _Sussen Hightopp?_ His older sister, who'd specialized in hats for smaller animals and had had a knack for poetry?

"Sussen?" he asked of the male dormouse.

"Yes, I think so. May I sit down?"

"Oh, but of course!" said Tarrant. Russehc sat down on the table, and the March Hare handed him a tiny teacup, taken from a child's play tea set.

"Anyway, Sussen was the name given to me by the lady who gave me _this_," he said, tapping the brim of his blue derby hat. Tarrant eyed him suspiciously.

"May I see it?" he asked Russehc, who shrugged and swept the derby off of his head with a flair, twirling it between his fingers as he held it out to the last Hightopp.

Tarrant carefully took the hat, hooking it on his ring finger as he inspected the miniature piece of headgear. The stitching…the quality of the cloth…the design…the tone of the blue color…

He smiled, both with fondness and with pride. Sussen's work or not, the hat was most definitely a Hightopp creation. He gave the hat back to Russehc, who smiled a charming grin and flipped the derby gracefully onto his head between his ears.

"It's good to meet another fan of the Hightopp craft besides Mally, Thackery, and of course, the White Queen," said the Mad Hatter with a grin that revealed the large gap between his teeth.

"Mr. Hightopp, you flatter me. I was only a customer of your relative…"

"Sister!"

"Your sister, then. I knew her only as that. A customer. I'm sorry to say I did not have the doubtless pleasure of knowing her personally."

"That is of little consequence or difference to me," said Tarrant, with a shrug. "And please, Russehc, call me Hatter! Or Tarrant. Everyone does. By the way, you've yet to drink your tea!"

The male dormouse nodded and took a drink from his cup. He licked his lips slowly.

"Quite tasty! Who made this tea, if I may ask?"

The Hatter and the other dormouse both pointed at the March Hare, who smiled crookedly and nodded exuberantly with pride. Russehc smiled again.

"You make very nice tea, my good sir," he complimented.

The Hare giggled.

"It's green!" he shrieked, and threw his own cup into the air and catching it with his other paw. Russehc turned to Mallymkun.

"Is he always like this?"

"Most always," replied Mally, without looking at him, and then added in a slightly darker, and definitely more suspicious tone, "Strange how you'd know about me and Tarrant, and not about Thackery?"

For a second, Russehc did not reply or respond in any way. Then he gaped, as if something had just struck him.

"'Thackery?' As in 'Thackery Earwicket?' The March Hare who, upon the Frabjous Day, defeated forty Red Knights using nothing but a soup ladel?"

"Th' saime! And it wus forty-five!" said Thackery, bowing in a comical manner that caused his ears to fall over his eyes.

Russehc bowed back.

"How honored and delighted I am," he said, his voice so small and modest it was barely above a whisper. "To be taking tea with three of Underland's greatest heroes."

Thackery blushed. Tarrant smiled proudly. Mallymkun just shrugged.

Russehc raised an eyebrow in her direction.

"Pardon me, madam, but I couldn't help but notice that you've generally stayed out of all conversation thus far, and you DID invite me here yourself."

Mally shot Russehc a glare and mumbled something vile under her breath, breaking off a bit of a scone next to her.

"Do excuse her," said the Hatter, apologetically. "She's been having…_cat_ troubles…"

For a brief second, the Mad Hatter's eyes were orange, but quickly became green again.

"Oh, I see…I think…actually, and call me crazy if you wish, but I don't really mind cats."

Everyone at the party stared at the smoke-colored dormouse.

The widest eyed was Mallymkun.

"You don't?" she asked, shocked.

"Well, it isn't that I _like_ them…I mean, they're always trying to eat me! But, really, it's more that I understand them. See?"

Mally shook her head, as did the Hare and the Hatter. Russehc cleared his throat and explained.

"Well, you see, they only attack me because they're hungry, and, as a rodent, I am a primary source of food. So, really, I understand that they attack me not because they're cruel or evil or twisted…they're just trying to stay alive. Get it?"

Tarrant shrugged. Thackery mumbled something that sounded like "snoot-floot" under his breath and nodded. Mally looked rather uncomfortable.

"What about their… 'games?'" she asked, hesitantly, nearly vomiting the last word. Russehc seemed to take no notice and rolled his eyes.

"It's in their nature, I believe, madam. Sort of the way a child plays with its food before eating it."

Mally suddenly was standing, her face red as a ripe tomato. The Hare and the Hatter shared a glance.

_Oh, dear…_

"Are you _defending_ them?"

"No. I'm nothing more to them than something to fill their stomachs. All I'm saying is that I don't blame them for trying."

"But those _games!_ They torture the poor…er, us! They give us hope and shatter it! They let us breathe and then rip out our lungs! They snap our very minds! How can you…?"

"Mally!" hissed the Hatter, eyes pale.

The dormouse jerked to a stop, swallowing thickly.

_Well, this is an interesting twist,_ thought Tarrant, and gazed over at Russehc with an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, Russehc, but I think it would be a good idea if you left about now. Feel free to come back though anytime."

"I shall," said Russehc, and then turned back to Mallymkun.

For a second, his eyes seemed to change color from dark to bright blue-green, but when she looked again, they were still the usual black, beady eyes of a dormouse.

"I'm sorry if I upset you, madam. I hope to see you again."

And with that, the dark furred dormouse left, scuttling away into the woods.

For a second, Mally just watched him go, but when he disappeared behind a bush, she called out, "Wait, Russehc! Hold up!" and tried to follow. She turned the bush…

Russehc had vanished. Not a trace could be found of the dormouse anywhere.

Mally looked around, cautiously, and then made her way back to the table. The Mad Hatter and the March Hare both looked at her with concern and puzzlement.

"What wus awll that aboot?" asked Thackery, curiously.

Mally didn't reply. She didn't say a word. Not a word.


	6. Chapter 6

All-righty, readers! Here's the next chapter. Please enjoy, and remember to review! But no flames! Today's songs are pieces from _Don Juan_ and _Twisted Every Way_ from _Phantom of the Opera._ I have changed the lyrics at several points to fit the story, so please don't sue! The original song belongs to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Drumroll, please…

**Chapter VI: Returning a Favor**

"Well…it isn't Tarrant's, but I guess it will suffice."

Chess sat in a tree above the burbling brook, flipping the miniature derby into the air with a practiced flick of his wrist and catching it again on a claw. It had been easy to capture the thieving black rat that had stolen the hat from Sussen a month before the Horunvendush Day (thank heaven for memory). It had been only a little bit harder to retrieve it. (He took its home, too…he'd need it, although it required some redecoration, and it wasn't like the creature would need it itself where it went.) The plan was working perfectly, and he had to admire his own cleverness. True though it was that vanity was a curse, surely, a moment of self-satisfaction was acceptable!

"This is almost too easy!" he whispered to no one in particular. His thoughts became a song, and he chuckled as he sang. _"A better scheme there's never been! Once again, I recite the plan: make her see the way I do, and all at once see HER point of view! When we met I changed my voice, and she could not have seen my fangs! She knows not the plot I have concocted in my brain! Poor thing hasn't got a chance! With this hat and a rodent's form, conquest is assured…IF I do not forget myself and LAUGH!"_

As if on cue, he laughed. With luck, and a few lies (he hated that word…perhaps "stories" was more appropriate?), he'd gain her trust once more…and, as a dormouse, hopefully reach a closeness he could never reach as a cat.

That saddened him. Not that he disliked taking a rodent's form (which he did), but it was depressing that she couldn't love him for who and what he really was. A feline he may have been, and thus a killer, but he couldn't help that. They'd been friends so long…he'd almost forgotten the fact she was, by nature's rule, his prey. No wonder she had been frightened so easily by his anger, when not even the Jub-Jub Bird could scare her off…

But THIS time, he swore, he'd make sure he wouldn't mess up. THIS would work: if she couldn't love Chessur Cat, she'd love Russehc Dormouse. He was willing to remain in that form forever if he had to, even if it was the death of him, if only for her. He'd do anything for her.

A familiar sounding sigh quickly led to his evaporation into invisibility.

It was her. She was here.

_Perfect!_

She was talking to herself.

"That Russehc fellow's right…he can't help it. He has to do it…he has to…he has to kill…"

He grinned wider.

_This is working out even better than I'd hoped! I've already got her thinking…_

"Which is why…why I'll never have him…"

_Drat._

"He won't have me…he'll kill me first. It's his nature…his nature…"

She sighed again. She sounded like she wanted to cry.

_Have me? HAVE me? You HAVE me already, ridiculous girl!_

He cocked his unseen head to one side as he heard her sing, under her breath.

_"Twisted every way, to him what joy do I give? Am I to risk my life to, at long last, truly live? Can I avoid his words, can I escape his voice? Am I only his prey...in this matter, have I a choice? He kills without a thought…he has murdered those bad and good…I can't deny how I feel for him, and yet…I wish I could. Oh, God, if he were this to see, what horrors would wait for me, in this, the Cheshire Cat's game?"_

Here she bent her head low, and he swore he heard her sob. He wanted to as well, but that would be suicide.

"I wish Chess was here…or, at least, that Russehc…I'm so confused…"

_Wish granted, love._

Silently, he evaporated to the ground and transformed into a dormouse.

_Remember,_ he mentally reminded himself. _Keep your voice soft, and don't get too close to her, or she'll see those pearly teeth. Don't want that, now do we?_

"Ms. Mallymkun? Is that you?"

Mally raised her head and wiped her eyes. She whipped around to him, her expression stronger than he guessed she felt.

"R-Russehc?"

"Hello, madam! I _had_ hoped to see you again," said "Russehc" with a bow, his hat hiding his smirk. "May I ask what is troubling you?"

Mally huffed and eyed him suspiciously.

"None of your business, sir."

"Please, madam…call me 'Russ.'"

Mally glared, her face vaguely pink.

"Fine. Nothing is troubling me, Russ. Better?"

"Much, Ms. Mallymkun," he answered, nodding. Her gaze softened.

"If I can call you Russ, you can call me…Mally."

Inside, he wanted to fly to the moon.

Outside, he tipped his hat with a smile and said nothing but, "As you wish, Mally."

Mallymkun chuckled and turned away from him again. He smiled and sat beside her, just out of arm's reach.

_How I want to tell her…she doesn't know she HAS me. She had me when we met. It is __**I**__ who cannot have __**her.**__ Oh, I want to touch her…so small…so soft…so gloriously "muchy"…_

"Russ?"

Her voice was so soft even his keen ears could barely hear.

"Yes, Mally?"

"May I ask you a very serious question?"

"Anything, madam."

"Please…Mally. A-and you won't tell anyone…right?"

He smiled and drew an X-shape over his chest.

"Say that…someone really, REALLY liked somebody else, and they wanted to tell that somebody they liked them. But that somebody hurt them..."

"Go on."

"Well…say that someone still likes that somebody a lot, and that somebody apologizes, but that someone gets angry and they leave. And…and now, that someone…isn't so sure the person they like likes them back…what should be done?"

Russ took a long time to ponder. Since when had Mally asked anyone for an opinion?

"Well," he said at length. "I think that someone who got angry should apologize, and tell that someone they love that they love them."

Mally nodded and turned again toward him.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome…"

_Stop lying. TELL HER!_

_NO! Can't end the game yet. I have to keep up at this. As long as she's happy, I'm happy._

_I'm happy…_

"Mally?"

"Yes, Russ?"

"You once gave me the honor and granted me the sublime favor of having lunch with you and your fellow Resistance members. I'd like to return the favor, if I may?"

There was a long pause.

"At your house?"

"My burrow, yes. Why not?"

She seemed to think it over.

_Say, yes, Mally! Please, please, say yes…_

"No. I'm sorry."

_Shukm._

"All right. May I ask why though?" he asked, more than a bit disappointed.

"I…well, I…" she faltered. After a silence, she asked in flat, dull voice, "Why?"

"Because, my dear lady, it is rude to accept an invitation to lunch and not give ne yourself to the 'inviter', as it were."

Mally hesitated.

"PLEASE, Mally. You have absolutely no idea how much it would mean to me."

This was the truth.

Mally smiled.

"I'll join you, Russ. You have a point; it's rude not to accept."

_YEEEEEEEEEEESSSS! YES, YES, YES!_

"Thank you, Mally," he said, thankfully succeeding at keeping his exuberance suppressed. "Will tomorrow at noon be a good time?"

"Fine. How far from here do you live again?"

_She remembered…_

"Seventeen yards down the brook. My burrow is beside a rosebush. I doubt it will be as splendid as the home of a hero – like yourself – but I do hope you'll grace it with your presence."

Mally smiled wider.

"I was right. You are a true gentleman."

"One tries. Tomorrow, then?"

"Yes. _Fairfarren,_ Russehc."

"_Fairfarren_, Ms. Mallymkun."

With these words, he turned and ran, smiling widely. Very widely.

"Now," he murmered. "The fun can REALLY begin…"


	7. Chapter 7

Note: First of all, I apologize for not updating in such a long time! Thank you for your patience (or lack thereof…in a way, that's better, as it prompts me to update faster), and I am sorry. While writing, this story took a u-turn on me, so from this point on, things change rapidly. Don't be surprised, and don't say I didn't warn you.

**Chapter VII: Yearning for True Guidance**

Nivens McTwisp, the White Rabbit, was – by nature – one of the most panicky characters in Underland. Many things frightened him or made him nervous: being late, an angry Tarrant, Thackery in the month of March, an offended Red Queen, Stayne, a _frumnious_ Bandersnatch, and especially the Jabberwocky.

But the Jabberwocky was slain. The Bandersnatch was far from his home, and sleeping, no less. The Red Queen and her Knave were both in exile. It wasn't March, the Hatter wasn't around, and so far he'd been on time for everything that day.

So, for him to be so frightened that the quantity of cold sweat on his ears caused them to droop, only one creature could be standing before him…

Chessur.

Why Nivens feared him, the Cheshire Cat would never fully know. Rabbits were not on his menu (he'd tried to catch one once, and found their cries to be murder on his ears, to say nothing of the fact they kicked so violently he couldn't really get a good hold), and even if they were, such an upstanding and valued member of the Resistance as McTwisp would be excluded from it.

But the cat never told that to Nivens. He didn't care _why_ the White Rabbit feared him, but the fact he did was really a boon to him: if he ever desired something from the long-eared page, he didn't need bribes or threats or even real charm to get it: the sound of his voice alone and the sight of his ever-lasting smile were enough to scare the Rabbit into submission.

"H-h-h-hello, Ch-Chessur," stammered the Rabbit, peeking out from behind his door and shaking like a leaf.

"Hello, Nivens," Chess greeted in a dark, lilting purr he had come to master whenever he spoke to the time-obsessed rabbit. "How are you, might I ask?"

"W-well."

"Excellent," purred the cat. "And where's Creole?"

"B-B-Bill?"

"Yes."

The White Rabbit gulped.

"He's…he's in the back, practicing -"

Chess vanished. Under normal circumstances, he would have savored the chance to terrify and infuriate McTwisp, but now was not the time for games: promises before pleasure, after all.

In all of Underland, and possibly Overland as well, there was no greater swordmaster than Billnor Creole, or "Bill" as most simply called him. (Except for the Queen, who favored his full first name.) Once Captain of the Palace Guards for Mirana and her sister, Iracebeth's, parents, Bill had never truly retired. Being the Rabbit's neighbor, he would frequently visit and practice his skills with his letter opener-saber on mechanized dummies he had installed in the back yard by an old tool shed.

Bill had taught many soldiers and had many students, but Mallymkun was his best. He had taught almost too well.

But, of course, he never did teach her EVERYTHING.

As Chess rematerialized, he found Bill nearing the end of his practice run. A dummy wielding a battle axe rattled towards the gecko, who had removed his brown coat for the purpose of easier movement. Bill twirled the saber in his claws and practically pounced upon the dummy, cutting off its arms and then kicking it to the ground. Another dummy – this one holding a mace – shot up from behind. The lizard spun around, swinging his blade in a graceful circle about his head, and cut the dummy clean in two. Two more approached from either side, each holding a broadsword. The gecko ducked as one blade whizzed over his head. Before the second could strike, he thrust his miniature saber up and straight through the mechanized mannequin's forehead. Pulling it out, he spun the blade like a buzzsaw, cutting the other's limbs and painted face into ribbons.

Then came the final dummy, holding a scythe in one hand and a spear in the other. Bill stood perfectly still and straight, his blade lowered. His wrist was all that moved as he tapped the point of the sword against his "ankle." The dummy sped forward, spear held out straight, scythe raised high above its head. Bill smiled slightly and flicked his wrist in the direction of the dummy, at the same time releasing the blade from his bony fingers. His saber flew through the air like a shuriken, twirling back in an arc and cutting off the dummy's head before returning to his waiting claw.

He exhaled.

Chessur applauded politely.

"Nice form," purred the cat.

"Terchal."

"Gesundheit."

The lizard scowled over his shoulder.

"It was a joke."

The gecko scoffed and sheathed his saber.

"Terchal is no joke," he grumbled. "It takes nearly a lifetime to master. Not even your precious Mallymkun knows it. I never did get to teach it to…"

Bill fell silent and then, without turning around, asked, "What do you want, feline?"

"It has to do with Mally."

"Really?" hissed Bill. "You don't say. Well, what has happened? What mischief is Mally muddled in this time?"

"I assure you, it's nothing of her doing."

"Then why come to me? Her life is nothing of my business…"

A paw pinned the gecko to the ground. Bill had been expecting this reaction, but he knew better than to say so. He just glared at the cat above him.

"IT IS NOW," snarled the Cheshire Cat. "Don't act like she means nothing to you! You told Patricial she was the daughter you never had, and Mally has always looked up to you like a father! And you know that!"

"Considering her family life, I'll take that as an offense," snapped the reptile.

Chess growled, leaning in a mite closer. Unlike rabbits, lizards always made good snacks.

"I will say this only once Creole, so pay attention: I need your assistance, which is the only reason you still live. I will not tolerate such remarks. Insult _my_ Mally again, and trust me when I say that I will not hesitate to kill you and shove you down my throat. Am I clear?"

Bill looked at the cat long and hard, confused and a bit surprised, but not scared in the least.

Then he smirked.

"Oh, dear God…you've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"

Chessur took a deep breath.

"Yes," he said at length.

To the cat's surprise, the scaly swordsman began to laugh hysterically.

"What's so funny, pray tell?" hissed the cat.

The lizard snickered.

"A Cheshire Cat in love with a dormouse? Why, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard!"

If he could, Chess would have frowned. But as his lips could not curve downwards, he simply glared.

"Silly, Bill?"

"It's the only thing more ludicrous than love itself!"

"You find love to be ludicrous?"

"Romance is utterly ridiculous."

"You didn't always think so, Billnor Creole."

The gecko's smile vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Let me up, you crafty crock."

Chess did so. Bill stood up, dusting off his shirt and straightening his vest.

"Well," he said. "Why don't you tell her you love her?"

"I wanted to, but…"

"But what?"

The Cheshire Cat hesitated.

"Some…complications arose," he said dully. "Too many complications to ignore."

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"Besides," Chess hurried on. "I'm a cat. She wouldn't take me."

"She might."

"_No._ She _won't._ So, I'm playing mouse to my own cat. I've disguised myself as one of her species, so that I may get closer to her."

"And you come to me why…?"

"You know things about her I do not, and visa versa. The only other people very close to her are the Hare and the Hatter, and…well…"

"I see. You want me to help you in this little dance of dark deception."

"You might say that," said the cat with a shrug, and turned to leave. The lizard was beginning to get on his nerves. "At any rate, if you won't help me…"

"Ah-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!" chirped Bill, wagging a clawed finger. "I only said that I don't believe in love. I never said I wasn't going to help you!"

Chess cocked his head doubtfully.

"Why would you then, if you don't believe in love?" hissed the cat. "You don't believe I love her, and don't believe she loves me, so what's in it for you?"

"You know, cat, you're starting to sound a lot like the Hatter. At any rate, I have my own reasons."

"Such as?"

Bill shrugged.

"She's happy when she's with you. I won't lie: I wasn't exaggerating when I told Pat she was like my own child to me. I _WANT _her to be happy. I don't care a dime about people caring about others, but happiness is another matter entirely, and if she lives with you, she'll be happy. I just know it. Understand?"

"Not really…"

"Well, that's fine. No one ever understands _you_, after all…"

"…But I've got a rough idea," smiled the cat. "So, you WILL help?"

"With whatever I can. As of now, may the judge of this contest for a rodent's heart consider me your accomplice," Bill smiled back.

Chess grinned even wider.

"I've invited her to lunch with me tomorrow. Do you know what she likes? Dormouse diet was a subject I never really took the time to learn."

Bill chuckled.

"Well," he began. "Like most rodents, I believe she is partial to cheese…"


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Song here is part of _The Mirror (Angel of Music)_, and, as with most of the songs that are and will be here, it's from _Phantom of the Opera._ This chapter took FOREVER to get right, so I hope it does not disappoint. If it does, then I will swiftly rewrite it, put it up, and then continue. Just tell me what you guys want! I'm writing for you, my readers, after all. :) Now, without further ado…

**Chapter VIII: Getting to Know You (Well, Sort Of…)**

As the dormouse walked along the bank of the brook, she couldn't recall a single moment in her little lifetime that she had looked over her shoulder.

Nor did she really want to.

Mallymkun sighed with self-frustration. Where was that bloody cat? She didn't quite know what she'd say to him if she saw him, but then, she was beginning to rethink the idea of talking to him at all. She'd snapped at him…probably broke his heart, too. One does not get over such a thing very quickly.

But she highly doubted he was REALLY gone for good: cats are possessive and protective creatures, she knew, and Chessur was no exception. He had always considered her to be his, in some way, and that wasn't going to change. Just because she couldn't see him didn't mean he wasn't around.

If anything, it only ascertained his presence; he was very proud of his natural skills at evaporating, and loved nothing more than befuddling people (and animals) with his powers.

Actually, it wasn't her own safety she was_ really_ concerned with…no, she could take care of herself, especially when it came to Cheshire Cats.

_But Russ…_

She couldn't fully understand why she felt so…friendly around him. She felt she could trust him, although she was also fully aware she had only known him a few days. And she knew so little about him, too: his taste for fashion, his gender, and his species…his feelings towards cats…

Yep. That was about it.

And yet she felt very…comfortable around him. Yes…that was the word. She felt comfortable around Russehc. Almost as comfortable as she felt when around Tarrant, or Thackery, or…

No. No thinking about him.

She needed to be on her guard, for Russehc's sake, if not her own. Chess wasn't going to like her being around someone/something he had once considered a tasty meal.

Speaking of Russ, there was the mouse hole beneath the rose bush, just where he said it would be. She walked up to the opening and called down into it.

"Russ? Hello? Are you home?"

For a second there was no reply.

But one can be sure she heard the loud clap from behind her. Fearing the worst, she swung about towards the noise, paw on her blade…

It was Russ, smiling triumphantly.

"My apologies, Mally; I couldn't resist the temptation to startle you."

"Blast it, Russehc!" growled Mallymkun. "I swear, if you EVER do that again, I'll cut your arms off!"

To Mally's surprise, Russehc _laughed _at the threat!

"I promise, I will not do it again," he said with a chuckle, holding his paws up in a placating gesture. "Now shall we take our lunch?"

Mally nodded. Once. Russ smiled and ran up to the hole.

"Follow me, Mally. I'd hate for you to get lost," he said, and then darted down the tunnel. Mally dashed after him.

A few things became apparent to her as she followed her host down the mouse hole, which twisted and turned, but remained on the same track. One: the hole was almost twice as large as it needed to be. She had lived in a mouse hole herself, many years ago, with her family, and they, like most rodents, had only made their hole as wide as it needed to be, no more. In this tunnel, she could stand on her hind legs and run like that, but in her own home she had had to duck while on all fours.

Secondly: there was something simply…_off_ about the _SCENT_ of the place. It smelled like Russ, certainly, but there was a sharper-smelling, thinner-placed odor that wouldn't go away as well, like a veil of smell. It wasn't a BAD smell, just a strange one.

Mally had to force herself not to laugh out loud when she realized Russ was, possibly unknowingly, dwelling in a "used" home…most likely a rat's.

After a short run, Russehc brought her to a large chamber. A miniature painting of a rose floating in a pond was stuck to one wall. There was a tiny sofa, two little chairs, a small tea table, and a miniature bookcase…this was his living room.

"The dining room is in the next chamber, the kitchen beyond that," said Russ, and ushered her into a smaller area, in which was set only a small table, with a candelabra on it, and two chairs. He pulled one chair out and nodded to indicate that she sit.

"Please," was the only word he spoke.

"Thank you. Thank you kindly."

Mally sat down. Russ bowed slightly.

"I'll get the lunch; it's still in the kitchen. I shall return in the flap of a gnat's wing."

And he swerved into another chamber, an air of eagerness clearly etched in his movements. Mally couldn't help but ponder her host, whom she had only known a few days, and yet she already found she could trust as a…friend? Was he her friend already? Well, she let him call her 'Mally,' so, yes, he was her friend. But when did she decide he was her friend? She knew so very, very little about him! Yet she had accepted his invitation to lunch…she'd hesitated, yes, but soon agreed. With everyone else, it would take endless coaxings to go anywhere, yet she'd decided against her own better judgment so quickly and taken the invitation. The only other person she would have done that with was…

NO! No, no, NO! _NO_ thinking about him!

She sighed.

"This is all too weird…"

Then she giggled.

_What am I SAYING?_

"Here's lunch!" called Russ, entering the room again. "I do hope it is to your liking!"

Of course, "Russehc" knew it would be before he even brought the luncheon in: two cups of tea, with cream and sugar on the side, and two plates, each laden with cheese slices, a crumb of toast coated in squimberry jam, and a miniature-sized treacle-pepper tart. Mally's favorite.

Bill had been shockingly helpful.

He smirked, ever so slightly, when Mally's eyes widened and lit up a bit at the sight of the meal.

"Lunch, I think, was meant to be eaten, Mally, not stared at."

Mally shot her host a suspicious glare.

"All right, confess: are you a spy? A psychic? A radio reporter?"

Russ tilted his head to one side, confusedly.

"I don't understand."

"All these are my favorites. You know who I am at first glance. You know everyone in the Resistance, although you were not a member. So tell me, Russehc, what's your secret?"

Russ shrugged, but said nothing. Mally sighed and put a paw to her eyes.

"You're a regular puzzle, do you know that?"

"Oh, I don't think so," said Russ, biting into his tart. "I just know what I need to know when I need to know it."

Mally eyed him doubtfully.

"When I figure out what you just said," she said slowly, "I'll come up with a crushing reply."

Russ chuckled.

"Eat, please, Mally. I may be insulted if you don't at least sample what I've prepared."

Knowing he was joking, Mally shrugged and took a bite of her toast. Russ smiled.

"If you think I know everything, madam, I can assure you, you are direly mistaken. For example – and forgive me if I seem to forward – I am rather curious as to whether you have a family?"

Mally looked up at him over the rim of her teacup and shrugged.

"I used to," she said simply.

These three words brought a deathly silence.

"The Horunvendush Day."

"Yes. My mother and my three sisters: Milliani, Moldoven, and Mindysa. We called each other Milly, Molly, Mindy…"

"And Mally?"

"Yes."

"What about your father?"

Mally glared at him and said nothing, but only took a large bite of a cheese slice. Russ coughed.

"I take it that bit was too personal. I apologize."

"It's all right. Just don't mention him again."

"As you wish. And…again, forgive me if I tread on forbidden ground, Mally…have you ever had an…_involvement_ with anyone?"

Mally had just been about to take another bite of her cheese, but stopped, the slice halfway to her mouth, when the question was asked. The look in her eyes held both deep hurt and insult. Russ averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Just wondering."

"No, no, it's fine. I just didn't expect it," said Mally. Here she smiled a small, somewhat sad smile. "So, you aren't always a gentleman, huh?"

"W-well, I try, but even a king falters at being kingly, just as a champion in a game will sometimes make a bad move in a game."

"Very eloquent. Why'd you ask?"

"Well, it's just…after what you told me yesterday…"

_What? Oh…yeah…henfan…_

He'd cornered her. Cornered her like…like…

NO! NO, NO, NO AND NO!

Mally groaned quietly.

"Well, you've trapped me, so I'll come out with it: I was in a…relationship, but…well…"

She broke off.

"I see. I AM sorry. Please, forget I ever asked."

"Asked what?"

Both smiled.

"You know so much about me," Mally went on, putting some of the cream (there wasn't much left by now…Russ certainly did like his cream) in her tea and stirring it. "Let me ask about you. Was there ever a 'Mrs. Russehc?'"

Russ shook his head.

"No. I've never married, nor ever had a lady in my life."

"I'm surprised! What's keeping them away…too polite for them, perhaps?"

Russ shrugged again.

"Actually, I'm not one for socializing…I'm a bit of an oddity, I suppose: I don't mind being with other people and/or animals, but I'm all right on my own, too. No real complaints."

"I see…I think."

The rest of the luncheon was spent in silence. Both had a lot to think about.

Once the luncheon was finished, Russ escorted Mally back up the tunnel of his burrow. Mally had considered going alone, but the ever-attempted gentleman of a dormouse had insisted. Mally and he shook paws.

"Thank you, Russehc. Lunch was delicious."

"Thank you for the compliment."

An awkward silence.

"Mallymkun?"

"Yes?"

"I was thinking…maybe I could go to tea with you, the Hatter, and the Hare tomorrow…"

"And I could come to lunch with you the next day."

"Well…if you'd like to."

"I would. We could do that. Make a pattern out of it…since the Frabjous Day, I've really nothing to do."

"Well…well, then, I guess it's settled. Tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow, Russ. And every day after?"

Russ smirked and tipped his hat in response to inquiry and vanished back into his home beneath the rosebush without another word. Mally smiled to herself – she wasn't sure of why – and turned to leave…

SWOOMPH.

_"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Ignorant fool, this brave, young suitor, sharing in MY triumph!"_

Mally swallowed quietly. She had wanted to talk with him, but now…now she didn't know what she was going to say!

So she improvised.

"I figured you were somewhere around…"

"I'm always watching, _love."_

The last word was so full of sarcasm and venom it stung her like a dart to her throat.

_Always? I certainly hope not._

"He's just a friend, cat."

"I don't like him."

"That's only because he's managed to escape you," she snapped, a sudden surge of anger coursing through her veins, which died out almost as fast as it had appeared. "You have no right to meddle in my life, or in my relationships. It's MY life, I'll do what I want to do, and see who I want to see."

"I'm a predator, dormousey: not only do I have the right, but I have the _ability_ to do as I see fit to you."

His still-silky voice was heavily laced with ice, and Mallymkun kept her back turned to him. If she saw the dark fury she felt that he felt now, it would shatter her like a sledgehammer to a mirror.

_But of course he's angry, numbskull! You called him nothing!_

"What do you want?" she half-snarled, trying to sound more upset than she felt.

"A great deal, I assure you. Right now, I would suggest that you and your little 'friend' stay away from each other. If you insist on seeing him again, then both of you little morsels better watch your tails…"

Suddenly he was whispering in her ear. She couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath that she inhaled when his warm, rippling breath tickled the fur on her neck.

"…You never know when I might start _CHEWING_ on them."

"Why…why do care so much if I see him? Why does it concern you so much?" Mally asked, the tremor in her voice no longer hidden.

Chessur chuckled darkly behind her. It was a dreadful sound, the kind a psychopath might make just before strangling a child.

"Because, darling dormousey, you belong to ME…"

His teeth snapped shut very close to her ear, nearly taking it off. It twitched involuntarily.

"…And nobody else. Whether you like it or not."

_I USED to __**LOVE**__ it…_

"Leave me be," Mally said, fighting back the fears and thrills she felt washing over her. When the cat made no response, she turned slowly around.

As usual, Chess had slyly disappeared.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter IX: The Best Laid Schemes…**

Chessur re-evaporated in front of Bill's house. (He'd shrunk himself down to the proper size on the way over.) From his vantage point, it was a great, crooked, towering building of wood, with only one window, that being in the tower. The curtains were drawn. The stairs that lead to the tower seemed the give the building its sole shape, and so, from the outside, the whole thing looked like it could fall over at any instant. But, of course, it was much sturdier than its unorthodox appearance would lead one to believe.

To a normal-sized person, the house was about the size of a large dollhouse.

Chess sighed inwardly as he opened the door (it was not locked). He felt sick, like a vice was pressing on his chest.

Or was that regret and guilt?

Oh, there was no time for such emotions now! The plan was going too well for him to back out! Besides, now that he'd gone and threatened her, all chances of her loving him as he was were probably thoroughly squashed.

This was most likely what hurt him the most. He really WANTED her to want him as _him,_ not as a dormouse! He'd been leaving her clues in his speech and actions that he half-hoped she'd figure out. She wasn't unintelligent, she had to have noticed them! But, then again, if she was picking them up, she wasn't giving him any visible sign of it…

He did feel so _sick…_

He swirled up the stairs – he could have walked, yes, but where was the fun in that? – and came to another door. He knocked, but no reply came.

He tried to open it, but it was locked.

He heard a stirring from inside, followed by another, and a voice saying, "I need to fix that doorknob…"

Chess put his ear to the door. From the room came a soft, rhythmic sound of chimes, playing a slow, beautiful melody…

A music box!

Chess swiftly spiraled into the room.

Bill sat in front of the closed window, back to the Cheshire Cat, on a box. His saber was held in one claw, laid across his lap. Chess couldn't see the music box, but from the lizard's posture, he guessed he held it in his other claw and was looking at it. The room was dark…the only light came from a dying fire set into an old fireplace. However, he could make out at least two articles of decoration: an old cot in the corner and a rack of sabers and blades above the mantle.

"That music is lovely."

Bill let out a strangled-sounding gasp, and a sharp clicking noise soon followed. The music abruptly stopped. Chess felt oddly disappointed.

The gecko slowly turned towards the Cheshire Cat, pocketing the still-unseen music box. His amber eyes stung with ice.

"_That's_ private," he hissed from the shadows.

"Nothing is 'private' to me, Creole."

"SHUT UP!" bellowed the lizard, rising so fast the box he had sat on fell over. If looks could kill…

Chess tilted his head to one side slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"You and Mally seem to be strange choices for palace guards, former or not. Swordmasters, unless I'm quite mistaken, aren't supposed to show such violent shifts in emotion as you two do, are they?"

"Yes, well, we can't all be cold and ruthless killers, like you, can we?"

"Look who's talking."

There was a long, long, _long_ silence.

Bill sighed.

"How was your luncheon?"

"Fantastic. She hasn't the foggiest."

"Good, good. And did she enjoy it?"

Chess hesitated before saying, "Well…she seemed to. I told her I'd visit her at tea tomorrow, and she said that would be all right, and that we could make a pattern out of it."

"Out of what, exactly?"

"I go to tea with her, the Hare, and the Hatter one day, she comes to lunch with me the next."

"I see. Actually, that's not a bad idea! You may need to…er…'expand on your character,' so to speak, as time goes on, but that should really get her to feel more comfortable around you. She might start to let down her defenses."

"Actually, she seems 'comfortable,' as you so mildly put it, around me already. She's letting me call her Mally."

"Ah," Bill said simply, and sighed again. "Well, that could be a bit of a problem."

"Why so?"

"Because, my fine feline fink, that means she still recognizes you as _Chess,_ not _Russ,_ albeit subconsciously."

"Oh. And that's a bad thing, right?"

"You bet your pointed ears it is. Unless you can keep her in such a state for the remainder of the process, or, more preferably, bury any recognition whatsoever, she'll soon see through the veil and realize the lie. You MUST NOT let that happen; there is a paltry number of perfect throats in the world. A shame to ruin yours."

"I'll manage. And you'll help me all the way, no?"

"Yes. I told you that I would. Check in with me at the Rabbit's place at the end of every week. I'll give you tips depending on how things go. Now, while your pattern is good, it will begin to bore, so if I tell you to try something new and different at any point, don't question me, I implore you. After all, _you_ chose me to be your 'mastermind,' as it were, and I can assure you that I know what I'm talking about."

"Got it. You know," Chessur added, smirking ever so slightly, "for someone who claims not to believe in love, you seem to be pretty eager to get Mallymkun and I together."

"Like you said, I wasn't always that way."

Another long silence.

"Anything else, Bill?"

"Well, actually, there is ONE teeny, tiny thing…" Bill said slowly, and stopped pacing.

"What?"

Bill smiled a cold, dead, reptilian smile.

"If I ever catch you here again, cat, say your prayers fast, because I'll waste no time at all in ripping your lungs out."

Chess grinned an equally fiendish grin.

"That's a very big if, Creole."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter X: The First Change of Schedule**

The first change to the schedule and plan came after four weeks. The cat could barely hold Bill's attention anymore, and things were going nowhere fast. If anything, the situation only seemed to worsen; according to Chessur, the dormouse was often hesitant at first in conversation at their meetings, although she was very...chatty by the time the luncheon would end. As for the tea parties, both "Russehc" and the Mad Hatter had noticed that Mallymkun seemed to take more and more interest in her tail...

The Cheshire Cat, of course, knew the reasons for this, but didn't dare tell the gecko.

So, as things seemed to be grinding to a halt – at least on the exterior – the lizard swordsman decided it was time for a change of pace.

Unfortunately, when the time came, his brain was practically dead from thinking. So, he relied on memories.

"Have you ever taken her on a picnic?"

The Cheshire Cat, who was leaning against the barn, shook his head.

"Of course not," he said, then seemed to stop short, his eyes taking a strange, skeptical light. "Hold on...did you say 'picnic?'"

"Did it sound like anything else?"

"As in a _picnic _picnic?"  
"Is there more than one kind?"

"Well..."

"When I say picnic, I mean it. Picnic. By definition, a meal eaten outdoors, as on an excursion. Often involving sandwiches, a large checkered blanket, lemonade, and at least a dozen ants. Note the words 'at least.'"

"I know what a picnic is, Creole," growled the cat. "But you _do_ realize what a corny idea that is?"

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"'Corny?'"

"Well, she knows the woods well enough..."

"Believe me, kitten," the lizard hissed softly. "There is much that a person – or an animal – can miss in their own home. I'd know."

Something in the reptile's tone told Chess not to argue or discuss the matter any further. He shrugged.

"Well, all right. I made you the master planner, after all, so, why not?"

"Why not, indeed. Just remember: the point is to perplex her. Her little brain is probably swimming with questions by now, so you just fill it up some more until there's hardly any room left for the answers."

"I think she may have reached that stage by now."

The cat's voice came out in a soft meow. The lizard pretended not to notice.

"Perfect. Puzzle her more, then. In about a month, we'll be ready to put on a real show..."

"What show?" Chess purred, cocking his head to one side.

"All in good time, feline...all in good time."

Chess sighed.

"Well, that's all right. Don't tell me, if you don't want to. It's not like I've ever told anyone the whole story, anyways..."

"So I've noticed."

The Cheshire Cat's response to this was a wink. Bill blinked, and he was gone. The lizard sighed softly.

"He's utterly impossible..."

"Ahem! Bill?"

Bill turned to see the White Rabbit scurry into the yard, holding a pamphlet in one paw.

"Oh, Nivens! Have you got it?"

The rabbit handed the lizard the pamphlet in response. The lizard flipped it open, and smiled in a devious manner.

"Wicked...simply wicked..."

"Er...Bill?"

"Yes, Nivens?"

"You've been seeing Chessur an awful lot lately..."

"Your point, Rabbit?"

"Well...I'd just like to know why..."

It should be pointed out that, ironically enough, one of the few things Niven's McTwisp did not fear was the deadly smile that crossed the gecko's face.

"Let's just say there _is_ a similarity between a raven and a writing desk, hm?"

The Rabbit groaned softly.

"Very well...if you won't tell me-"

"I won't. Go."

The Rabbit gazed at the lizard for a few seconds, then sighed before heading back towards his house.

Bill couldn't suppress a chuckle when he heard the rabbit mutter, "Just don't let him anywhere near me..."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter XI: Trite But True**

The curses that flew through Mallymkun's brain were many and colorful.

And all were aimed primarily at herself.

_You idiotic rodent!_ was one of the kinder mental self-attacks. _Why are you so scared? If he really intended to make a move of any kind, he would have done it by now! Besides, you can fight him off! You've done it before, you can do it again!_

_ ...Can't you?_

Sure, it was easy enough to say and think, but in action, she found herself uncertain.

After all, although she would never admit it, she still loved him, and hoped, in some way, that he loved her...

_Dear God, you're an idiot..._

_ Yeah. Lovestruck. Now shut up, I have an appointment._

The mental argument and insults ended here.

She came to Russehc's burrow. She had to admit, there was something about him that kept her attention, despite the fact nothing really changed during their visits. It was funny...they'd talked so much by now, it seemed they'd pretty much run out of things to say, yet they were somehow able to hold conversations without words. "Silent communications," so to speak. A flick of an eyebrow, a twitch or curl of the lip; all were signs. They had spoken about nearly everything she could think of...only two things, in fact, were never touched upon.

One of these was politics. This was because, as Russ pointed out to her, it was a subject he truly tried not to bother himself with, unless absolutely necessary.

The glance over her shoulder after he had said this earned her a mental slap in the face.

The other was personal matters. This was ironic, since whenever Mally saw Russ, she felt a sense of longing and puzzlement, and thousands of questions filled her head...but once they began talking, or eating, or even just staring into each other's eyes, all of these questions seemed to vanish into the dark places in her mind that she couldn't quite reach, and never got asked. As for why Russ never asked, Mally did not know, but suspected her reactions to his questions during their first lunch together had something to do with it.

At tea, conversation was more open...the March Hare's mental state was often a topic of jokes and discussion, and the Mad Hatter was always ready with riddles (most had no answers) and word games. Recently, he had begun asking more questions about Russ and his life...but the answers given were vague at best. As Tarrant had once said to her after asking such a question – namely, one regarding what Russehc's parents were – and receiving the word "dormice" as an answer: "This new friend of yours is worse than Chessur when it comes to whole answers!"

That was another glance back, and that lead to another mental smack.

Nevertheless, she could hardly wait to see Russ again. As she approached his burrow, tucked under the rosebush, she suddenly felt unease creep back into her mind, although she had dispelled it only moments before. The source of her caution was different, however, than before.

You see, Russehc had always waited for Mallymkun outside his burrow's entrance every time she came to see him.

This time, he was nowhere in sight.

Immediately fearing the worst, the white dormouse placed a paw on her pin-sword's hilt, and carefully stepped down the passage.

She tip-toed along for a while...then abruptly broke into a run.

Which was just as abruptly stopped when she slammed into something, rolled along the tunnel ground, and found herself lying on top of...

Russehc, who stared up with an expression that could be mildly described as startled.

For a second, the two just stared at each other.

Then, noticing the embarrassing position they were in, they quickly untangled themselves from each other and stood.

"Sorry," Mally said.

"No, no, my fault," Russ replied, dusting off his hat, which had fallen from his head. "I was not watching my step."

"Neither was I."

"Well, in that case, it is either both of our faults or neither of ours."

Mally shrugged. Russ chuckled and beckoned her to follow him.

"So, what's on the menu today?"

"You'll see, Mally. I have a surprise for you..."

Here, Mally stopped short.

"A surprise? For me?"

"Yes, for you. I said that, did I not?"

"What is it, then?"

"Well, if I told you, Mally, then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore, now would it?"

"...Good point."

Russ rolled his eyes slightly and continued down the tunnel.

When they reached the main chamber, Mally looked at Russehc's surprise, lying in the center of the floor...

A miniature picnic basket and a folded blanket.

She looked from the basket, to Russ, to the basket again, and then back up to Russ.

"A...picnic?"

Russ nodded.

"Is that the surprise?"

Russ seemed hurt.

"You don't like it?"

"Well...I guess it's not that bad..."

"I'll take that as a compliment..."

"But...you realize how very...'old hat' this is?"

The male's smile told her he felt the same thing.

"I simply thought it would be a nice change of pace."

Mally mulled this over for about five seconds.

"I guess you're right...still, it's not much different...it's just outside..."

_Which is somewhere I'd rather not be at the moment..._

_ Smack!_

Russ shrugged.

"Well, if you don't want to do it, we could try something else..."

"No, it's all right. But..."

She paused.

"But...?"

"But...can we just stay on the bank? I don't really want to go too far from here."

Russ cocked his head to one side, raising an eyebrow at the same time.

"Why not?"

"Because...well, because the Hare and the Hatter might need me for something, and they expect me to be here."

Russehc's curiosity was only whet.

"But they've never needed you any other time before. And I, for one, cannot think of any immediate threatening things that could pose any harm to them."

"Well, you never know," Mally said quickly. "I mean, life is unpredictable..."

Her friend's bland, frank expression told her he didn't buy it, but wasn't going to press the matter.

She reacted to this with an expression of gratitude.

_Smack!_

Russ took the basket and the blanket and began to exit. Mally followed.

"Well, where shall we set up?"  
The female dormouse looked around until she spotted a small area that was relatively dry and clear on the bank of the brook, and pointed it out. Russ nodded and put the basket down.

"Give me a hand, please?" he asked, gesturing with the blanket. Mally smiled and began to help him unfold it.

"One question, Russ..."

"Hm?"

"Why, of all things, a picnic?"

Russ paused as the blanket was unfurled and laid out, and set to flattening the edges.

"In all honesty," he said slowly, "I really couldn't think of anything else at the time..."

Mally laughed.

"And here I was beginning to think you were actually smart!"

"Well, that was rude..."

"I'm kidding."

"I know."

Here the gray dormouse in the blue suit began to unpack the basket. There were sandwich fixings – squimberry jam, cheese, and white bread – pieces of fruit, mostly strawberries and oranges, and Mally's personal favorite, treacle-pepper tarts.

"I will never understand you."

Russehc looked up fast.

"I'm sorry?"

"How, and why, is it that you are always able to make my favorite snack, yet I don't even know if you have a favorite, and what it is, and furthermore never seem to run out of ingredients?"

Russ smirked and went back to unpacking the basket.

"I have my ways."

"That's what you said when the Hatter asked you how you were able to afford such a nice suit..."

"Yes, but in that case, that was what one refers to as a joke."

"So, it wasn't expensive?"

"No. It was, as they say, a steal."

Here the male froze.

"Blast..."

"What's wrong?"

He turned to Mally with an embarrassed smile.

"Leave it to me to forget something to drink. I'd prepared something, too, but I left it in the kitchen..."

"I'll get it."

"Thank you, but-"

"I insist. There's a difference between a gentleman and a slave."

Russ shook his head with silent laughter.

"Very well, Mally. Thank you very much."

Mally smiled, nodded, and ran back to the burrow. She went into the kitchen, and spotted two wine glasses and a pitcher of lemonade on the counter top. She rolled her eyes.

_Lemonade. As if the picnic itself wasn't hackneyed enough..._

She reached for the cups and pitcher...

CRANG!

Startled, the dormouse whipped around at the source of the sound. It sounded like something had fallen...

She spotted a passage she had not noticed before (which made sense, as this was only the second time she'd seen Russehc's kitchen, and the first time she hadn't actually entered the room). Her curiosity enticed, she entered it.

What she saw was surprising.

Crudely carved furniture of all kinds and what appeared to be paintings (done badly) were piled up nearly to the "ceiling," and doing nothing but gathering dust on one side of the room. On the other side of the room was what appeared to be a miniature fireplace, with a hole in its top leading up to somewhere above the ground.

And ashes were scattered around, while a large, soot-covered shovel was lying on the floor. It seemed that it was the shovel that had fallen.

Mally stared for a few seconds at this and then left the room.

_Interesting...why would he be burning furniture and commodities? Russ doesn't seem to be the sort to burn things for no reason at all...I don't think he's THAT kind of crazy..._

_ Maybe he's trying to hide something..._

Mally shook the thoughts away – at least partially – from her mind as she took the pitcher and glasses and headed back out.

Russ had laid out the food in the center of the blanket, and was seated on one side. He waved to Mallymkun as she approached. She handed him one of the cups and the pitcher. He poured her a glass of lemonade, and then poured another for himself.

"A toast," he said in his strangely soft voice, raising his glass. "To friendship?"

"Why not?"

For a while, neither spoke. Mally picked up a tart and began to eat, while Russ made himself a cheese sandwich.

"Mally?" he began after a while.

"Yes?"

"I'm curious...why do you keep looking at your tail?"

_Smack!_

"No reason," she mumbled, then said out loud, "May I ask you something?"

"Anything you like?"

"Well, when I went to get the lemonade, I noticed a room filled with...things, and it looked like you were burning them."

A pause.

"I just can't understand why?"

Russ seemed to think for a minute before answering.

"Well, I must admit, the hole wasn't always mine..."

"Yeah, I figured that out a long time back. But that doesn't answer my question."

"Well, it seems a rat owned the burrow before I, and no one I knew wanted to buy furniture from a rat's former home, so I put it all away and began to burn it...it's not like I could just throw the stuff into the river."

Mally pondered this, and decided that it made sense.

"Well, all right...but you could have just sold it to a junk dealer, or something..."

"I suppose I could have. Anyway, after I put it all into storage, I decided that I'd do some redecorating...nearly everything you see was put in by me after I took the place."

"Well, I'll confess, you certainly have a better eye for decoration, to say nothing of practicality...one chair in there looked like it would have needed help just to stand. The legs were thinner than a borogove's ankles..."

"Rats will be rats."

Mally shrugged. She'd lost count of how many times she'd done that during her meetings with Russ...

"I have a question for YOU now."

"Shoot."

"With what pistol?"

Mally glared in annoyance as she prepared a sandwich.

"Ask your question, Russehc."

"Well...I've already inquired about it once before, but I find myself curious about it again...and, seeing as how we're friends now, and have been...seeing each other..."

Mally groaned softly.

"Does this have to do with my father?"

"...Yes."

"Well, forget it. I am not going to talk about it."

Russ put down his glass (which was empty) and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Why is it so hard for you to talk about it?"

"Well, because..."

She stopped.

"Nice try."

Russ sighed.

"Mally, talking about pain can help lessen it. He may have hurt you, but-"

Mally stood up, a paw on her blade.

"How did you know he hurt me?"

Without hesitation, Russ replied, "The Hatter told me."

"That's a lie!" hissed Mallymkun, her eyes narrowing into a death stare. "He knows I don't like people knowing about my problems. Heck, he barely knows about half of them himself! He's my best friend, and I know he wouldn't tell anyone things about me without asking me first, because he knows if he did I'd cut his eyes out and sell them to a fisherman for bait. Now, tell me the truth: _HOW DID YOU KNOW?_"

There was a very tense pause.

"In all honesty, I didn't know. I was guessing. After all, whenever the word 'father' is mentioned, you seem to wince, and whenever it is spoken directly to you, you grow angry and defensive, not unlike the way you are right now."

The blade was now drawn.

"You have some nerve, you know that?"

"Stabbing things won't help. Nor will slicing, scratching, poking, or slashing. I'm only trying to help."

"Help what, exactly? My temper? Because that's certainly working."

"No, your emotions. Healing takes time."

Mally growled.

"You speak to me like I'm a pup. I'm not a girl anymore, and I'll let you know I can heal on my own. You're nothing but an arrogant fool."

Russ smirked.

"Maybe you're right. However, after what I just said and did, a real, grown-up lady would have punched me in the eye."

Mally snarled and raised a fist...

And remained like that for a few seconds.

Then she smiled, sighed, and lowered it.

"Why can't I stay angry with you?"

Russ shrugged.

"I don't know, but right now, I'm glad of it."

Mally smiled wider.

"I think I'd better go."

Russehc looked greatly upset.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to make you so mad with me..."

"No, it's not that. I just think I'd better get back to the tea table...it's about that time anyway."

"There's nothing I can do to convince you to stay a while longer?"

"Not that I can think of, no."

Russ sighed, this time in mock grief, and stood extending a paw.

"We are friends, still?"

Mally raised her paw...

And her fist connected with his right eye, knocking him to the ground.

Russ let out a yelp, holding his eye in one paw, then looked up, his mouth shut tight, his expression on the verge of terror.

Mallymkun just smiled teasingly.

"Friends," she confirmed, and walked away as if nothing had happened.

She giggled softly as she heard the male behind her grumble as he began to pack up the blanket and basket.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter XII: Continuing On...**

Nivens McTwisp's gardener, Patricial "Pat" Longsig, the snow white goose, was honking loudly in the garden.

The source of the loud honking came from the cut in her wing, after nicking herself while trimming a grape vine.

The reason she nicked herself was not intentional; she had been disturbed.

The disturbance was a sudden, raucous bark of laughter from the back yard of the White Rabbit's home.

The laughter belonged to Bill the Lizard.

"HA! She _actually_ punched _YOU_ in the eye?"

"I asked for it."

"Heh, Heh! Yes, you certainly did. Cat, you should consider yourself lucky...if it had been me, I wouldn't _have_ any eyes left to be hit!"

"Oh, I seriously doubt that..."

"Don't flatter me, please. Well, aside from that, how did it go?"

"Well, as corny as it was, altogether, I'd still say it went relatively well."

"...Relatively?"

The Cheshire Cat cleared his throat.

"Well, she found the chamber where I was burning that filthy rats belongings by accident...I think she bought the story I gave her about that, though."

"Anything else?"

"Well, the reason she punched me in the eye was because I decided to ask about her father, and..."

A pause.

"You slipped up, didn't you?"

"Regrettably, yes, I did. But, again, I think...no, I HOPE she bought the story I gave her about me knowing."

"What story was it?"

"Simply that I was an observing fellow."

Bill hissed quietly, rolling his eyes sarcastically.

"Right..."

Chessur's tail lashed out in an P-shape behind him, his aquamarine eyes narrowing slightly.

"Exactly what do you mean by that?"

"You know precisely what I mean."

Another pause.

"One of these days, I am going to cut your heart in half."

"I'd really like to see you try that, kitten. It sounds like fun. Anyway, be careful not to slip up again; she may not buy the next story. That is the problem when it comes to paperbacks..."

"I will be more cognizant of my words, I assure you. There's already too much at stake for me to slip up again, anyway...this game requires a lot of risks."

Bill raised an eyebrow and frowned.

"Is that what she is to you? Game?"

Chessur's forever-lasting smile widened a bit.

"Not exactly. If she was, I would have eaten her by now."

A letter-opener saber suddenly imbedded itself in the ground at his feet.

_"I'D KILL YOU FIRST."_

Chess growled.

"I can assure you, the feeling would be mutual if I felt you meant her any harm. I've killed lots of lizards before, and at least three of them were larger than you, so I really don't worry too much."

"Funny...my last real opponent said something similar. If I recall correctly, he was twice as large as you...a wolf, or something of the like, I think..."

The cat suddenly felt curious, and his expression showed it.

"What happened to him?"

"I gutted him. I gave the Queen his small intestine for her laboratory. She vomited as soon as I left the room, if I remember rightly..."

The Cheshire Cat shuddered.

"Sorry I asked."

The gecko walked over to his sword and put it back in its sheath.

"Well, all that's water under the bridge. I want to show you something," he said, reaching into the pockets of his brown suit jacket and his vest. "You recall the 'show' I mentioned?"

"Indeed. What is it going to be?"

The lizard pulled a small pamphlet out of his pockets and handed it to the cat, who seemed delighted at the words on its cover.

"How ironic..."

"My thoughts exactly. And it's perfectly timed."

"So, is this the next change in schedule?"

"Not in the slightest, feline: there are two more steps until we reach it."

"And what are they, precisely?" the cat purred, handing the pamphlet back to the reptilian veteran, who put it back in his pocket.

"Well, I was going to wait until next week to tell you the next step, but seeing as you're here right now..."

"Yes?"

Bill smirked.

"Seeing as you're here right now, I'll stick with that plan."

The cat sighed.

"I thought you'd say that, or words to that effect."

"Out of curiosity, Chessur, what do plan on doing in the end?"

"The end, Bill?"

"Think about it, cat: she's smarter than you give her credit, and you can't keep her in the dark forever. I'll help you confuse her, and encourage it, to a certain point, but, sooner or later, she'll either find out, or you'll confess. When that time comes, one of two things is bound to happen: one, she'll have pretty much figured it out already, so she will be more or less forgiving when her fears are confirmed. This, however, I highly doubt. Which brings us to number two..."

"And that is...?"

"She'll tear you into fourths with her bare hands, or die in the attempt. So, what do you intend to do when that moment arrives, eh?"

There was no reply.

The lizard chuckled softly.

"Mallymkun is right...you _are_ a fool. But at least you are a clever one."

Chessur stared, confused.

"Creole, how can I be foolish and clever at the same time?"

The gecko smiled broadly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mr. Cat," he said, "I'm going to stand here, just like this, and smile, until you realize what you just said."


	13. Chapter 13

Notes: SORRYSORRYSORRYSORRYSORRY! I apologize profusely for not updating on this story in such a long time! The only excuse I have is that my Internet connection has been wacko recently, and chances are it will have to get worse before it can get any better. But I assure you, good readers, this story will be completed!

To make matters worse, in this particular chapter not much development happens: as well as acting as a prelude to the next chapter, its primary purpose is for me to introduce a very special OC – my "alter ego," for all means and purposes – who will become a prominent character in many of my future stories/chapters of stories. He will not appear again in THIS story, however, until the very end. Please, tell me what you think of the character, and forgive me for the lack of plot-driving in this chapter. The next chapter will make up for any disappointment caused...I hope and pray, anyway.

Enjoy! (Or not. Preferably the former...)

**Chapter XIII: Exxe-traordinary Encounter**

It had been a long time since Mally had found herself opening her eyes up…to total darkness.

The first time had been long ago, before the Horunvendush Day…before she had even met the Mad Hatter and the March Hare. The second time was the night before the Horunvendush Day (Forbodean Day, if she recalled correctly), followed by a third time on the night of that terrible day. The fourth time did not come until much later, when she was held captive by the Red Queen, before the escape from Salazen Grum.

An escape managed in no small part by a certain cat…

She groaned.

_Now __what __is __it?_

_"Hello, Mallymkun. Long time, no see."_

The voice, dark and whispery, almost like the voice of a serpent, but clearly human (or human-like), seemed to come from the air itself…it was nowhere, yet everywhere, at once.

_"__Hello __again. __I __can__'__t __see __you__…__where __are __you?__"_

_"Look to your left."_

The dormouse did. Slowly, the setting before her faded into view, as if the darkness had wound itself into shapes and images, to create something not quite as dark, but not of light either…a grayscale of forms.

She was, as she had fully expected, in The Library. Not _a_ library, but _THE_ Library. The Library of Worlds. Books she could not rightly see lined every shelf, or else were stored in glass cabinets. The few titles she could make out she could not understand, written in foreign languages, many long forgotten. Scrolls and even carved pieces of wood or stone, inscribed with ancient symbols and hieroglyphs, were seen on/in some of these, partially hidden behind the multitude of books. The tops of the shelves, and the length of the shelves themselves, could not be seen, extending off into the inky blackness beyond her already mostly-shrouded gaze.

From the darkness came a spark of light; a candle flickered into view on a table…a table on which she stood.

And, at the end of the table, sat a shadowy figure, draped in a black cloak, black gloves, and a wide-brimmed black hat. The fingers of the gloved hands were long and thin, tapering at the ends, perhaps to conceal claws, or else really long nails. Beneath the hat brim's veil of shadow, glittering like black, shattered pieces of glass or sharp, metal filings, were a pair of obsidian colored eyes. The only thing not black, or veiled in shadow, was the medium-length, sandy-brown hair that spilled out from under the hat brim.

Mally still shivered, as if from cold, when she saw him, no matter how accustomed she'd grown to his sudden visits.

_"__Hello, __Exxe.__"_

In the candlelight, Mally could see the immortal's chin, and thus spotted his smile. His teeth were not human teeth…or snake's teeth, for that matter. They were patterned like the dentures of a jackal, only set in a humanoid mouth, the canines long and wickedly sharp, the incisors pointed and deadly.

Only the dormouse knew that grin was meant to be a kind one.

_"__It__'__s __good __to __see __you, __Mally,__"_ hissed the dark librarian.

_"__It__'__s __good __to __see __any __of __me, __you __mean.__"_

Exxe laughed…a cackle of amusement that never seemed to match his cultured, seductive voice.

_"__How __true.__"_

_"Why are you here now? What is it?"_

The obsidian eyes widened in mock surprise.

_"__Why, __Mally! __You __wound __me! __Do __I __really __need __a __reason __to __say __hello __to __an __old __friend?__"_

_"An old story, you mean. And, yes, you do. You always do. You said so yourself, once."_

The laugh came again.

_"__You __know __me __so __well!__"_

_"Well?"_

The gloved hands steepled.

_"__I__'__ve __been __going __over __you __these __past __few __weeks,__"_ he said. _"__The __last __few __pages __have __been__…__perturbing.__"_

_"How so, Exxe?"_

The librarian was silent.

_"…__This __is __about __the __cat, __isn__'__t __it?__"_

The hat on the immortal's head moved forward and backward as he nodded.

Mally sighed and looked down.

_"__Let __me __guess: __since __you__'__ve __been __reading __through __my __life, __you __know __my __feelings__ – __mixed __up __as __they __are__ – __for __him __are, __and __you __don__'__t __approve.__"_

_"On the contrary; I approve completely."_

The dormouse looked up, surprised.

_"__Wh-what?__"_

The cackling laugh was softer now.

_"__I __am __very __fond __of __you, __Mallymkun, __but, __please, __do __not __forget __you __are, __in __all __reality, __only __a __single __dormouse __in __a __vast __ocean...__an __ocean __of __oceans, __to __be __more __accurate. __I __have __travelled __the __entire __universe, __and __many __others. __I __am __as __old __as __the __night, __as __ancient __as __the __dark __side __of __the __moon. __Do __you __honestly __believe __that, __in __the __boundless __volumes __of __my __Library, __in __the __infinitesimal __number __of __worlds __I __have __seen, __visited, __or __read __about, __you __and __your __beloved __Cheshire __Cat __are __alone?__"_

Mally eyed him doubtfully.

_"__Actually, __yes. __I __did. __And __I __still __do.__"_

Exxe sighed; the Librarian of Eternity's breath was shallow and cold, like a chilly breeze on a cold winter's night.

_"__Mortals,__"_ he muttered. _"__Sometimes __I __forget__…"_

_"__I __don__'__t __understand.__"_

_"__That __is __not __important,__" _rasped the shadowy figure, waving a hand carelessly. _"__All __you __need __to __know __is __that __I __worry __about __you: __I __can __only __care __about __seven __beings __in __all __the __vastness __of __eternity, __and __there __are __no __refunds, __as __far __as __I __know. __Your __comprehension, __therefore, __doesn__'__t __signify __at __all.__"_

_"What do you want of me, now?"_

_"I want nothing of you. I want to help you."_

_"Well, then?"_

Exxe paused before speaking again.

_"__What __are __your __feelings __for __this__…__feline, __precisely?__"_

Mally bit her lip. Hard.

_"__I __don__'__t __really __know__…"_ she said, petulantly, and immediately scolded herself for her tone.

_"__Clarify __your __confusion, __please.__"_

_"Well…I think…I THOUGHT I loved him…but, even if I do, he doesn't seem to love me, and I think it would be silly if he did. It would be wonderful, yes, but it would be…unlikely. But, at the same time, I want to tell him. I suspect the attempt will get me killed, but I want him to know, nevertheless. Every time I want to approach him, though, I find hostility or a loss for words – on my part, for the latter – interrupting me before I can get the chance. I don't know if he already knows about my feelings, but, if he knows, perhaps that's why fate hasn't given me the chance to tell him…"_

_"Hasn't given you the chance?"_

_"The first time, I went to find him, to tell him, and…"_

_"And what?"_

The dormouse glared harshly.

_"__I __think __you __know __what.__"_

_"Yes, but I want to hear it from the rodent's mouth, so to speak."_

Mally snarled, temper rising.

_"__You __know __that __I __hate __being __called-!__"_

_**"**__**WATCH **__**YOUR **__**STEP, **__**MALLY.**__**"**_ Exxe's voice was louder now, the hiss echoing everywhere, madness and irritation spilling out in a torrent. After a pause, he added, calmer, _"__I __might __get __upset.__"_

Mally shuddered.

_"__You__…__you __once __told __me __you __weren__'__t __God. __Sometimes __I__'__m __not __so __sure, __though__…"_

_"I only keep the stories in order; I never write them. Besides which, I can only read one at a time."_

Mally nodded, silent.

_"__Continue, __my __dear.__"_

_"…As you know, I found him…'playing,' and I guess something about that angered him. He grabbed me, hissed and yelled…put a claw to my neck…"_

_"In short, tried to kill you."_

_"__Yes. __Then__…__he __stopped. __He __let __me __go. __I __still __don__'__t __understand __what __in _henfan _was __going __on __then__…__and __I __am __really __not __sure __if __I __want __to __know.__"_

She looked up at the librarian hopefully.

_"__Though __I __don__'__t __think __I__'__d __mind __if __I __found __out.__"_

_"As I said before, I can only read one book at a time. Besides, even if I did know, I would not be allowed to tell you."_

Mally sighed.

_"__Go __on.__"_

_"Well…he came to apologize, and I…snapped. In more ways than one. I instantly came to regret it. I wanted to apologize for my own actions, and forgive him for his, and then tell him, at last…but he evaporated before I could."_

_"Then came your new friend."_

The dormouse smiled grimly, and laughed a mirthless laugh.

_"__Yeah. __And __now, __I__'__m __watching __my __tail __every __waking __moment, __because __he __is __terribly __jealous __of __Russ, __and __says __he__'__ll __eat __us __both.__"_

Exxe arched an almost unseen eyebrow.

_"__If __he __has __such __contempt __for __you __now, __what__'__s __there __to __be __jealous __of?__"_

Mally shrugged.

_"__He __calls __me __his__…__once __upon __a __time, __that __was __a __good __thing, __I __thought.__"_

_"Who says it isn't anymore?"_

Mally glared at the librarian again.

_"__You __DO __know __something__…__don__'__t __you?__"_

_"Naturally."_

Mallymkun growled softly.

_"__Naturally, __natural, __nature__…__I__'__m __getting __sick __of __those __words.__"_

_"I can imagine."_

_"Can you tell me, please?"_

The smile on Exxe's face was like that a grandfather would give to a newborn infant. In the immortal's eyes, that was probably the exact case.

_"__If __I __could, __or __had __intended __to, __tell __you, __don__'__t __you __think __I __would __have __by __now?__"_

_"…Yes."_

Exxe chuckled, and then his expression grew deathly serious once more.

_"__How __DO __you __feel __about __your__…__friend?__"_

Mally shrugged again, but only one shoulder.

_"__Oh, __well__…__he__'__s __nice __enough, __you __know__…"_

_"You are avoiding my real question, and painting a lie. This is very dangerous. I repeat, **HOW ****DO ****YOU ****FEEL ****ABOUT ****HIM?****"**_

Mallymkun sighed, defeated.

_"__Honestly? __I __don__'__t __have __any __clue __as __to __what __I __think __or __feel __about __him. __I __mean, __I__'__ve __only __known __him __for __a __little __over __a __month __now,__yet __he __feels __so__…__familiar, __like __I__'__ve __known __him __all __my __life. __What__'__s __more, __I __hardly __know __anything __about __him, __but __I __can__'__t __seem __to __bring __myself __to __ask __him __questions __about __his __own __life, __though __he __clearly __has __no __compunctions __about __inquiring __towards __mine__…__it__'__s __as __if __my __mind __already __knows __what __it __wants __and __needs __to __know. __It__'__s __as __if__…"_

_"As if you do know him. Perfectly and completely."_

The white dormouse nodded.

_"__Exxe,__"_ she asked quietly. _"__I__'__m __not __sure __but__…__I __think __I__'__m __falling __for __two __different __people. __Does __that __even __make __sense?__Does __ANY __of __this __make __sense __at __all?__"_

Exxe did not reply. He was silent for a minute or two. His eyes briefly disappeared, and then returned to view…he'd blinked.

_"__Tomorrow,__"_ he hissed darkly, _"__You __will __encounter __a __much __more __intolerable __foe __than __your __current __emotions...I __fear __for __your __safety, __mentally __if __not __physically. __It __lies __in __wait, __PURRING __with __anticipation __of __its __revenge. __Once __it __has __been __dealt __with, __your __tangled __web __of __emotions __will __only __tighten __and __expand __at __the __same __time. __In __short, __keep __your __blade __handy, __or __there __will __be __Hell __to __pay, __and __take __heed __of __this __warning: __Beauty __is __often __hidden __by __the __Beast, __and __the __Beast __often __uses __Beauty __to __hide __its __dark __intentions. __In __this __case, __the __latter __is __not __entirely __true...for __the __Beast __you __seek __has __Beauty, __within __and __without, __but __does __not __fully __know __it. __So __do __not __be __afraid, __worried, __or __frustrated, __but __only __try __to __keep __appearances __and __things __in __plain __sight __at __a __distance, __where __they __may __be __more __safely __studied.__"_

Mally raised an eyebrow, trying to hide her worry behind indifference, and only half-succeeding.

_"__I __thought __you __were __telling __me __not __to __be __afraid __of __Chessur.__"_

_"Who said I was talking about him?"_

_"Well, you were very deliberate when you used the word 'purring.'"_

Exxe's smile was sinister and strange. He laughed loudly, and, as he did, the Library of Worlds began to blur and fade, as if the darkness needed to stretch, and had decided to unwind.

_"__My __time __is __nearly __gone,__"_ he said. _"__I __try __not __to __stoop __to __trite __sayings, __but __I __feel __this __one __is __necessary: __expect __the __unexpected.__"_

_"I usually do."_

The Library itself was gone, and the candlelight was flickering away. Exxe's hat seemed to vanish, followed by his arms, into the shadows.

_"__Wait!__"_

_"Hm?"_

_"One last thing…"_

_"Make it fast."_

Mallymkun gulped, and then put forth her query.

_"__Does __he __love __me?__"_

_"They both do…and they both don't. And one of them is in the middle. The three are circles, intertwined, like rings of fate and romance. One knows what to do, another follows orders, two follow their heart, but it is leading them both astray. The fourth is you, and she knows what to do…she just doesn't know it YET."_

The dormouse blinked.

_"__Beg __pardon?__"_

Exxe chuckled, and then the candle went out. He was gone.

_"__You __will __understand,__" _his voice whispered, _"__At __another __time. __Now, __however, __the __time __is __the __time __to __wake __up.__"_

A flood of sudden, blinding light, broke out. Mally covered her eyes at the burning flash…

_**"**__**MALLY!**__**"**_

The dormouse opened up her eyes. She blinked rapidly and put a paw to her forehead.

She was back in her teapot. She groaned from both grogginess and frustration.

_Must __he __always __see __me __in __my __dreams__…__?_

"Mally, are you all right?"

_Tarrant__…_

"Yes, Hatter. I'm fine."

"Cup! Bowl! Ye didnae _soun__'_ fyne!"

_Thackery__…_

"Hare, please, keep the noise down…"

"We're sorry if we disturbed you," Tarrant whispered. "You were mumbling in your sleep again…do you want to go back to sleep now?"

"NO."

The Mad Hatter jerked back at the bite the dormouse had put into that single, one-syllable, two-letter word. Mally took a deep breath, rubbing her eyes to clear them.

"No…I'm fine. Besides, someone's waiting for me, remember?"


	14. Chapter 14

Notes:Hello to you, my faithful knaves! Hopefully, any disappointment caused by the last chapter will be made up for by this chapter. For the record, this took FOREVER to write...primarily because I had no real idea of what I even wanted to do in this chapter until the other day. But, I know what I want to do now after this chapter, all the way up to the end, so, Internet connection and God be willing, I will be able to update more frequently.

Also, this chapter features a sort of "guest appearance" by a character from another _Alice_ adaptation, which shall also play a small-but-important role in _Treacle: __Legend __of __the __Dormouse._ While this character's identity should be pretty obvious to anyone who's read some of my other works, I still challenge all to guess where they are from! (Except for one...she already knows. *cough* Katzsoa! *cough*) I want to make one thing about this character perfectly clear: the character's _appearance_ is the only thing meant to reveal them. Their role will be strictly non-canonical with my works based on their respective universe, or anything to do with their debut universe in general...this is, as they say, "for entertainment purposes only." Now, enough of this rambling...

**Chapter XIV: A Pleasant Walk, A...Not-So-Pleasant Talk**

"Russehc" frowned, looking at the watch in his paw.

"Humph," he muttered. "She's late. I wonder what's keeping her..."

Pocketing the watch, he leaned back against the entrance of his borrowed home. He came there every second morning, before the Sun had even peeked over the Red Desert, to get ready for her visit. If he had time after his preparations were done, he'd hunt before waiting for Mally.

This morning, he'd had no such luck: the tarts had caught on fire. After putting them out, he realized he would need to make more...his dormouse deserved nothing less than perfection, even if he couldn't give it to her, as imperfect as he himself was. Burnt tarts would never do!

Now, as he waited anxiously, he was both hungry and worried. What if she didn't come? Could she have guessed who he was?

He almost hoped she did...but, then, she would have sought him out, for revenge if nothing else.

His eyes went wide.

What if she was hurt? Mallymkun was strong and unendingly courageous, there was no doubt of that, but she was not impervious to harm.

_You __would __know,_ a devious voice in the back of his still mostly-feline brain hissed.

He pushed that voice away; he'd discuss things with it later.

Bill's second plan required that she come to him, so that only upped the anti. It was not quite as...corny as the picnic, and, hopefully, would not yield similar results. It was, however, fiendishly simple.

And simplicity automatically told the lazy cat that this was an idea that he would like.

He just hoped that it would work...

Just then, he heard a noise, and turned.

He smiled a tooth-concealing smile.

_Finally._

"You're a tad tardy, Mally," he pointed out. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming today."

"I'm sorry, Russ. I..well, I...sort of had a nightmare..."

Russehc's eyes glimmered with concern, and he tilted his head.

"What about?"

Mally shivered.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you..."

This only saddened the disguised suitor more.

_Don__'__t __tell __me __I__'__m __giving __her __nightmares __already..._

_Can't I do anything right?_

"Very well," Russ said with a shrug, his aggrieved expression vanishing as quickly as it came. "As long as you're here, and you're safe, that's all that matters. Come inside...lunch is ready."

As Russ turned around, Mally felt a momentary blush paint her cheeks.

_He __was __worried __about __me..._

As Mally followed Russ down the passage to his parlor, her host noticed that she was particularly edgy this morning...even in the relatively narrow tunnel, her eyes scanned the area, darting left and right, nervously.

Wisely, the male kept his observations to himself, and decided that these were simply due to whatever nightmare she'd suffered from.

When lunch was set down, and the pair began to eat, the time was spent almost entirely in silence.

Almost.

"Mally?"

"Huh?"

"You've barely touched your lunch...are you sure you're all right?"

Mally looked at her host for a while, mentally debating whether to tell him...well, everything, or not...

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine. Just...tired, is all..."

Russehc's eyes told her that he knew better, but he only shrugged and returned to his sandwich.

After the luncheon was finished, Mally stood, and prepared to leave.

_Now, __to __see __if __this __works,_ thought her host.

"Mally? Before you leave, I have something to say."

"I'm listening."

"Well, I was thinking recently-"

"You know, I've warned you about doing that."

The gray rodent chuckled.

"Yes, you have. Several times. Anyway, I've realized my behavior recently hasn't been the most...well, polite."

"If you're trying to apologize for asking about my life last week, don't bother. In case you have forgotten, it was _I_ who punched _you_ in the face. And I've forgiven you already."

"Well, that's good news...but it wasn't what I was going to say at all."

"Go on."

"I...I was wondering if..."

He trailed off, suddenly looking nervous. Mally raised an eyebrow.

"If...?"

"...If you would, mayhaps, perchance, mind if I escorted you back to the windmill?"

Mally blinked. Her face was blank.

"You want to...walk me back home?"

"If you don't mind."

The female's expression remained blank.

"I'm not a pup anymore," she said, her words coming out flat and calm. "You know that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Russ said, and rubbed his nose. "You've made that painfully clear..."

Mallymkun smirked.

"I simply realized," Russ went on, "That a 'proper gentleman,' as you so often call me, would see a lady home after entertaining her."

"That's true," Mallymkun conceded. "Still, I'd think you would have offered such sooner."

Russ chuckled again.

"You've known me for quite some time, Mally. I'm not that smart."

Her eyes seemed to grow deeper and darker at that.

"You are smarter than some," she said, softly, talking to herself. She then raised her voice, and said, "If you really want to come with me, you can. I don't really care either way."

"Then I shall 'escort' you," Russ smiled, and walked up beside her. He extended his arm, smiling even more widely...though not so wide that his teeth were showing.

Mally glanced at his extended arm, and then started off without taking it, her face flushed. Russ frowned slightly, and then followed.

The walk went on in silence at first. Russ gazed down at Mally with a mixture of quiet curiosity and amusement; the snow-white dormouse before him kept glancing up at him, when she thought he wasn't looking, but would then turn her gaze forward again, each time her face growing more and more red in tone. She was so warm by this point, he swore he could feel the heat off her skin...

"If you keep blushing like that, Mally," he said at last, "You'll get a headache."

This only made the female glare at him half-heartedly and blush harder.

The pseudo-dormouse snorted with laughter, and turned his own eyes forward, becoming lost in his thoughts...she was such a lovely creature, her beauty stunning beyond compare, regardless of whatever standard being applied. What he found most intriguing was that she KNEW she was beautiful, but never thought much of it. Many a rodent had been caught gazing at her with more than just mild interest, but none could get a hold of her...she was wild, untamed, and had, frankly, no interest whatsoever in the number of dormouse suitors that had come to her. They wanted only one thing, and she had no reason, nor any desire, to give it to them.

He frowned slightly, wondering at that moment if the attraction she felt for her was because of or despite the fact she was a dormouse. He then decided that didn't matter; like her, he was considered to be quite a prize – by females of course – but had no want to court any of them, or go any further. There were several reasons for this: one, he wanted love, not lust, and was not to be disillusioned by one for the other. Two, he, frankly, had no love for the others of his kind; cats are not social creatures, really, and to find one as...er..."civilized" as himself was difficult. This was neither a brag nor a boast, but a fact; Cheshire Cats were primarily bestial in their thoughts, although most of them could speak: the males and females of his species and sub-species alike were interested in three things: eating, and two words that began with the letter "s."

One was the word "sleeping." The other...well, let's just say it shouldn't be too hard to figure out.

_That_ word bothered him...unless, of course, he himself was pondering what it entailed.

Right now, he was pondering it...at least part of it. He looked back at her, fighting to keep the hunger he knew would inevitably show up in his eyes away, lest she look up at him. She truly WAS beautiful...he wanted to hold her. That's all, really. He just wanted to hold her, he realized. He wanted to cup her in his paws, or else pull her up against him in a full-body embrace, depending on the form he was using at that time...and then, he felt, he could die happy, if the Creator decided that. Everything else was secondary. Yes, he wanted to hold her...touch her nose with his own...feel her fur against his...maybe run a paw...nay, a _claw_, across her cheek...

"Thank you."

"Hm? What?" Russ snapped out of his daze, and looked down at Mally with a sheepish smile. "Oh...you're welcome."

He paused.

"For what?"

Mally laughed.

"I'm not really sure," she responded. "I just couldn't think of anything else to say."

_Nothing __else __that __would __even __be __close __to __SMART, __anyway,_ she chided herself in her head.

_Shut __up, __please,_ grumbled another voice.

_Look! __Now __you__'__re __arguing __with __yourself...AND __losing!_a third voice snickered.

She giggled out loud, which resulted in Russ casting her a bemused look.

"Is something amusing you?" he inquired, silkily.

"Oh, no, it's nothing...my mind is just a bit segregated right now."

Russ stared at his female companion for a moment longer, and then turned away, rolling his eyes.

"You know," Mally began slowly, "There's something about you I don't understand at all."

"What would that be, my lady?"

Mally blushed anew at the last two words he spoke.

"Well...you just seem so...familiar."

"Of course I do! We've been seeing each other for several weeks now, after all!"

"That's not what I meant!" snapped Mallymkun, more harshly than she had intended.

Russehc's jocular smile faded.

"What did you mean?"

Mally opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again, and crossed her arms in an uncharacteristic pout.

"I don't know," she mumbled, petulantly. "That's why I find you so..."

"Confusing?"

"Yes. Confusing."

"I don't see anything confusing at all. We are friends, aren't we? From what I'm told, friends are people you've known only a short while, but feel like you've known them your whole life, hm?"

"Heh. Yeah...friends..."

Russ stopped walking. So did Mally. The male's eyes looked so distressed that Mallymkun was momentarily stunned by the emotion she saw in them.

"Are you saying we aren't?" he asked, confused and a bit pained.

"Oh, we are!" Mally hastily assured. "Of course we are, indeed we are! At least...at least, I THINK we are..."

Here she looked up expectantly at Russ, as if expecting him to give her an answer as she said, "Aren't we?"

Russ smiled faintly (but, then, all of his smiles were faint).

"I don't know," he said, mimicking Mally.

She smirked.

Then, without warning, she froze. Tensed. Russ did the same, his ears swiveling about. Mally's paw immediately found its way to the hilt of her pin-sword.

"What's wrong?" Russ said.

"I'm not sure," Mally said, and put a finger to her lips as she sniffed the air.

Her eyes widened.

"Russ?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to run back home. Get out of here. I'll handle this."

"But, I can't just leave you!"

For a moment, Mally felt another blush tint her face, and smiled with affection and a sense of pride, but swiftly shook these feelings away.

"I can take care of myself. Go."

"I-"

"GO."

Russ gazed at her for a moment more, then said, "Godspeed," and ducked under a bush, vanishing.

Mally sighed; she had actually half-hoped he'd stay behind.

"Come on out," she called out to the air. "I'm waiting."

A golden swirl of mist appeared before her. It left a cat in its wake as it dissipated.

Unlike Chessur, this Cheshire Cat was thin and lanky, with light gray fur covered in voodoo-esque tattoos. A silver hoop earring dangled from one of its pointed ears, and its glowing yellow eyes with pin-point pupils accentuated its malevolent, toothy smile.

"You've picked up a bit of an attitude, I see...well, more than I remember, anyway."

The dormouse looked at him mildly, despite the loathing she felt flooding her chest.

"Hello again. I must confess, I expected somebody else."

The cat laughed again, a horrid, blood-curdling sound that sent chills up even her rigid spine.

"Really?" he purred. "That's a pity. So sorry to disappoint."

"If I were you, feline, I'd get as far away from my sight as possible."

"Why? It's not like fatty's going to stop me this time."

Mally's eyes widened. So did the cat's grin.

"Oh, yes. I know. Word in the woods is that he's decided you make a better meal than a pet. They say that he has...er...'renounced his claim,' so to speak."

The cat began to circle her now. She watched its every move.

"If this is so, I don't have anything to fear...I doubt he intends to finish what he started," the cat said, indicating a large, scarred area on one paw, where bite marks were easily seen. "For one simple reason..."

Here the cat licked its lips with a stinking, purple tongue.

"That makes you fair game, and since I've caught you...that means that you are MINE."

Mally snarled, drawing her blade and crouching low.

"I am no one's," she said, her voice even, yet menacing. "And my own skills have improved since our last encounter. I hardly need a bodyguard of my own, or haven't you heard?"

The cat scoffed.

"Please! You expect me to believe a little morsel like you slew the Jub-Jub Bird? When mome raths fly! Hah!"

Mally smiled.

"I thought you'd say something like that."

The cat laughed again, louder this time.

"Well," he said, "If you really want to do this the hard way, so be it...I love a challenge."

"Come and get me!"

The cat hissed, and leapt at the dormouse, who ducked between its paws, and jabbed hard at its taut, scrawny stomach, puncturing it and drawing blood.

The cat yowled and jumped away, swatting at her with a paw. Mally moved to the left, lashing out with her blade. The thin, sharp metal whistled through the air, and cut off part of the cat's left ear.

The cat hissed again, and lunged, mouth wide open. Mally jumped up, running across its back, and jumping off when she got behind it, slashing upwards and slicing at its hindquarters. The cat whipped around to face her.

It was officially ticked off.

"Impressive," it growled.

"Thank you."

The cat lunged again, and Mally ducked and lunged at the same time, intending to cut out its eye. She did not succeed, but did manage to inflict a deep slice at its eyelid, sending a trickle of blood down its face, like a stream of crimson tears.

The cat practically roared, and swung at her with a paw, this time managing to bat her away. Mally dropped her weapon, landing roughly and rolling in the grass as she made impact with the ground. She barely had time to sit upright when the cat evaporated, sitting mere inches in front of her, and lunged down, mouth wide open. Mally squeaked and held out her arms, straining to hold the jaws open before they could engulf her.

The cat growled in the back of its throat; the inside of its mouth was sloppy and hot, its gums bright red, its palate and the back of its throat black and pink, its teeth yellowed and stained with the dried blood of past meals. Mally gagged at the awful stench of dead meat the feline's breath carried, suddenly finding herself wondering if Chessur's breath smelled just as foul...

"So long, dinner," the cat growled, splattering Mally with slick, smelly saliva, its mouth still held open, but only just, as the dormouse's arms began to weaken from the movements of its lips and jaws. She closed her eyes, straining her muscles harshly, groaning as she tried to keep them open and away from her head...

SWULP!

Suddenly the cat let out a short hiss, its face backing off abruptly. Its hiss was cut short, and Mallymkun heard it gasping for air. She herself lay back, gulping down great lungfuls of fresh air, before wiping the sticky cat spittle off her face and looking up.

The tattooed cat lay on the ground, writhing with pain, its paws clasped about something that was coiled tightly around its neck, trying to remove it...further inspection showed it to be a dark vine, tied into a sort of noose.

As Mallymkun's curious, somewhat frightened gaze travelled upwards, she saw the one who held it.

Her eyes widened so far you could see the blood vessels behind her black irises.

It was Chessur.

And, boy, was he MAD.

The striped cat, who practically dwarfed the other Cheshire Cat in size, tightened his grip, giving a fierce tug, eliciting a sharp gasp from the smaller, scrawnier feline. His turquoise eyes were wild, but not quite as feral-looking as when Mally had seen him hunting.

"When we last met," he growled, "I told you I would remove your arm the next time you even got _close_ to _MY _dormouse."

He paused, his grin becoming sinister and cold.

"This, however, seems much more enjoyable."

He tugged again. The other cat gargled in the back of its throat, its skin turning blue.

"P-please...!"

Chess ignored the cat's sharp, breathless plea for mercy. He tied the end of the vine he held to a stone that was in his paw, and then wrapped the vine around the branch he stood on.

"I warned you before: this mouse is MINE. Let this be the last lesson you ever learn."

Chess gave one last tug, and, with an audible SNAP, the other Cheshire Cat's neck broke clean in two. It died almost instantly.

Chessur eyed the cat dismally, and then his gaze flashed towards Mally, who by this time was staring at him with an expression of utter shock, not sure what to think, and not even sure if she wanted to try thinking at all.

Chessur's eyes slowly softened...then they hardened again.

Before she could think, she felt emptiness envelope here. When she opened her eyes, she was at the tea table.

Tarrant and Thackery were nowhere to be seen.

Not right away, anyway.

As Mally looked around, trying to figure out where Chessur might have gotten to now, the Mad Hatter and the March Hare burst out of the woods, running down the hill that lead to the windmill with panicked expressions.

"Mally!" Tarrant called out. "Mally! Over here!"

She turned to them, and waved. The demented duo stopped for breath, the Hatter staring at Mally with an expression of befuddlement and worry, with a slight hint of disgust, his eyes a virtual rainbow of colors.

Mally looked down at herself, and couldn't help but be disgusted as well; her pink dress was still damp with the thin cat's saliva, and she smelled like blood.

"Oh, thank all the insane angels!" the Hatter gasped out. "What happened to you? You look awful! No offense, but you _smell_ awful! Are you hurt? Do you need anything? Want anything? Medical help? Tea, maybe?"

"Tarrant, first off, I want you to relax! I'm fine, Hatter!"

"Purple muffins!" the Hare gasped out, in a tone of voice similar to the Mad Hatter, and said nothing else, for, having been hyperventilating, he fainted.

Mally and the Hatter looked at the Hare for a moment, then turned to look at each other again.

"Where did you two go?" Mally asked.

"It was Russ," Hatter said. "He came here, and told us that he had been escorting you back here, when the two of you got separated. He said he came straight here, to see if you had gotten back. You hadn't, obviously, and all three of us got worried. We realized none of us knew where you were, and...well, you are very good at handling trouble, Mally, but you also tend to attract it like a magnet."

"I'll ignore that remark."

"Anyway, we all ran into the woods to find you! Russ got separated from us as well – he seems to be very good at getting lost, it seems – so we went off on our own to find you."

Here the Mad Hatter paused.

"Strange," he murmered. "I thought he'd be back by now himself..."

Mally said nothing.

But she thought a great deal.

_How __did __he __get __here __so __quickly? __I __saw __him __run __in __the __OPPOSITE __direction! __And __why __did __he __act __as __if __we __got __lost, __and __there __was __no __immediate __danger?_

_And what about Chess...why did he save me? Again?_

The dormouse sighed; it seemed the puzzles of her little heart still had a great many more pieces to put together before it stopped beating.


	15. Chapter 15

Notes: Before anyone asks: yes, readers, I am corny and sappy enough to use the idea that shall be revealed at the end of this chapter for a part in Bill and Chessur's plot. It is, in fact, one of the few things I decided I would do immediately when I began this story. (Most of this tale has been/will be a matter of merely "winging it.") Also, forewarned: the chapter I am talking about WILL have a song in it – we've been without music for far too long here – and it WILL be from _Phantom of the Opera._ I'll leave it to you to guess which one it is...if you care to. However, this all a matter of the future, so, it is that we move on to...

**Chapter XV: Drastic Measures**

Billnor Creole was locked in his tower, sitting on a box before the window.

In his hand, he held a small, round object, from which came a soft, slow tune.

Bill stared at the music box, as he had been staring, with a soft, thin smile on his scaly lips, eyes lost in another time and place, humming quietly to the rhythm of the tiny chimes that made the box play its piece.

In such moments, he preferred to be alone.

Needless to say, he was very, very upset when a familiar SWOOMPH sounded from behind him. With a deep, throaty growl, he whipped out his saber, pocketing the box and turning fast.

"I _told_ you that if you _EVER-!"_

He stopped short, and slowly sheathed his blade.

Chessur the Cheshire Cat had his back flat against the door of the chamber, his claws digging into the wood. His eyes were downcast and filled with anger. He was panting like a dog (to quote a phrase), his gasps mixed with a low, rumbling growl, his hair up like small, lead-colored spikes, his ubiquitous grin manic, but not gleeful, baring his teeth in a snarl.

For a while, Bill said nothing, he just looked at the cat with his arms folded, deciding to wait until the feline had calmed down a mite to do or say anything.

About three minutes later, Bill was still standing there, starting to doze off, his right foot tapping impatiently, and the anger in the cat's eyes had been replaced with a sadness, his fur leveling out rapidly.

"I...I know you don't want me here," he said presently, his voice its usual, cool, smooth tone, but slightly broken in rhythm as he started to talk. "And I apologize for the intrusion, but I couldn't think of anywhere else to go, and, when I evaporate, I need to make location-based decisions fast."

"I'll let it slide; your lungs may remain where they are for now. You've slipped up again, haven't you?"

"Yes...well, no...oh, I don't really know...!"

The cat's grin widened, becoming slightly more genuine.

"That's a new feeling..." he murmered.

Bill rolled his eyes.

"All right," he sighed, "tell me what happened."

"We...we began our walk back, and we were...talking. Just talking. I think...I think she's opening up more and more to me as a dormouse."

"Well, that's good..."

"Yes, but what happened next wasn't. I probably smelled it before she did..."

"Smelled what?"

"But that didn't matter," Chess went on, ignoring Bill, "because once it caught on to us, we both knew more or less what to do..."

"What? What caught on to you, cat?"

"She told me to run, but I couldn't just leave her! Sure, she knew how to deal with it now, but..."

"Kitten, either tell me what you ran into, or so help me God I'll mount your head on my wall...!"

"THE CAT!"

A pause.

"...Another cat?"

"Yes," Chess sighed, placing a paw over his eyes. "No relation of mine. We'd met before though...all three of us. Mally, of course, ordered 'Russ' to run, so she could take care of it herself."

"And?"

"Well...as a cat, I'd protect what is mine. But I had no idea what a mouse would do, so I just chose the opposite..."

"You left her to face another cat on her own?" Bill hissed, reaching once again for his blade.

"Of course not, Creole! And even if I had, she might have been able to take care of the problem herself..."

"Perhaps so, but, from what I'm gathering, she couldn't."

"No; I didn't know how I could help by staying, so, I left...straight for the windmill. I told the Hare and the Hatter that we had gotten separated, but didn't say how, and all three of us ran back into the woods to see her. When they weren't looking, I evaporated back over there...changing back into my usual, more fitting form on the way..."

"Oh, naturally."

"And, when I found them, she was practically in its mouth."

Chessur's eyes darkened once more, and he let out another soft snarl.

"Something just...came over me when I saw that...that _guddler's scut_ trying to eat her. I'm...not exactly sure what it was...it wasn't just my usual protectiveness of her..."

"You killed it."

It was a confirmation, not a question.

"Yes," Chess sighed. "I did; I looped a loose vine around its throat and pulled until its neck broke."

"And Mallymkun, of course, saw all of it," Bill finished with a long, deep sigh. "Well, Chessur, you HAVE put your foot in this time, haven't you?"

"I suppose I have," Chess groaned. "I'm sure the Hare and the Hatter told her everything; now she won't trust me in either form."

"Don't be so sure."

Chessur's ears perked up, he looked Bill in the eye.

"How do you mean, lizard?"

"As a cat, you've saved her life. As a dormouse, you tried to do the same. She'll be confused beyond compare, but I think trust is something she'll hold for both of you."

"Maybe," Chess begrudgingly agreed. "But what now? If I know my Mally – and I do – she'll come to me herself to ask why I helped her. Most likely in both forms. What do I tell her? What's my next move?"

Bill rolled his eyes.

"I can't tell you everything," he said. "I'm here to give you tips and ways to get a ring on her finger. It's your choice on how to react to things you do."

Chess groaned. The lizard smirked.

"Look, I'm sure you'll think of something, cat; you always do. And, if it's any consolation, I admire what you tried to do...in both forms."

"It isn't any consolation at all...but thank you, anyway."

The lizard chuckled.

"Well, perhaps it will lighten your mood to know that our 'show' is coming up."

The cat looked at him.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I need to ask her if she'll go with me! Oh, not good..."

"No. Not good at all. But I'm almost certain she'll say yes...at least to your dormouse form. That's who you want her to agree to, anyway, right?"

The cat snorted.

"I'm of two minds, Creole; I'll take her either way. If she says yes to Russehc, marvelous: the plan will continue as hoped. But if she yes to ME, I will be very happy: she'll have accepted me."

"I'll be going to, so that you know," the swordsman said. "As a former guard, I am always on the Queen's guest list; even if this little drama weren't happening, or at least if I weren't involved in it, I'd be there."

"You told me there was one more step before, though. What is it?"

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"You want to know now?"

"I might be able to use it to my advantage; the sooner I can wield it, the better."

Bill eyed the cat for a moment, then smiled in a strange, dreamy way.

"Have you ever been to Drimdok's Hill at sunset?"


	16. Chapter 16

Notes: No, world, this is NOT the chapter with the song; that would be the next chapter. There is, however, a VERY brief quote from the song _Why So Silent?_ from _Phantom of the Opera;_ it should be established by now that I own nothing connected to it. All rights go to Gaston Leroux, Hal Prince, Andrew Lloyd Weber, and anyone else I failed to mention. Also, a shout-out to fellow author Niphuria: wherever you are, I hope you're well…haven't heard from you in who-knows-how-long.

Had to get that off my chest. Now, it is that we move on to…

**Chapter XVI: Riddles That Have No Answers…**

_You can do this…it's just Chess…just Chess…_

_ Can we count on that?_

_ Just knock on the door…what are you, scared?_

_ For once, yes…_

_ Well, get over it!_

Mallymkun sighed. She was directly in front of the Cheshire Cat's house, pacing before the door uneasily. She'd walk in a semi-circle, trying to keep herself calm, stand at her full height, stick out her chest, head held as high as she could hold it, walk up to the door…then feel her courage sink to the pit of her stomach, and continue to pace nervously.

She'd been doing this for at least ten minutes.

And the voices in her head would not. Stop. Arguing.

_In the name of the teabag, DO IT!_

_ But…but…_

_ No "buts!" Just knock on the door, and ask him about the other day! What's the worst he could do?_

_ Well, let me see: he could swallow me whole, or tear off my limbs, or unravel my innards and make me watch, or chop me into little pieces and cook me in soup, or put me between two pieces of bread and use me for a sandwich, or drown me in milk and lap me up…_

_ Huh. I guess there really IS nothing to be afraid of, huh?_

_ Very funny._

_ Look, he saved your life!_

_ Yeah, but why?_

_ That's the whole point of your being here, now, isn't it?_

That was all it took. She repeated the process of holding her head up, throwing out her chest, and straightening up her back, and approached the door again.

She hesitated only briefly, biting her lip, and then knocked.

For a while nothing happened.

_Hmm…perhaps he didn't hear me, or isn't home…_

She was just about to knock again, when the door opened.

The cat stared down at her, his ever present grin diminished slightly, his eyes widened in what seemed to be shock.

For a moment they both just stood there, staring at each other.

_Oh, great…now what do I say…?_

It was the cat who broke the silence.

"Yes?" he purred, eyes suspicious.

Mally gulped.

"I…I just…I wanted to…that is, I…"

She shut her mouth. The cat crossed his arms, and waited patiently for her to compose herself. His tail flipped in the air behind him subtly, and did not move again.

Mally took a VERY deep breath.

"First of all," she said, softly, voice scarcely over a whisper. "I came to talk. With that in mind, I want you to make me one promise."

The cat blinked.

"Go on."

"While I'm here…do you promise not to eat me?"

The cat's eyes widened slightly, then narrowed again.

"Done."

Mally nodded.

"Well…I wanted, second of all, to… thank you."

Chessur raised on eyebrow.

"For…?"

Mally glared.

"Must you ask?"

The cat blinked again, but said nothing.

Mally sighed.

"You saved my life…again. That's what for."

"I see."

Mally narrowed her own eyes now in suspicion; the cat seemed uncharacteristically curt today. Not that he was always polite, but he usually had more than one or two words to say about anything…

"Anything else?" the cat said, a single, pointed ear twitching.

"Yes: why did you do it?"

The cat's eyes went very wide at this, and remained so for quite a while. He looked shocked once more.

"I told you before," he said at last, after his eyes had returned to a (more) normal state.

"Then tell me again."

The cat growled softly.

_"Your chains are still mine. You belong to me."_

Mally glared.

"You. Do not. Own me."

The cat did not respond for a moment.

"Not yet," he said simply.

Mally chuckled mirthlessly.

"You're a piece of work, you know that?"

The cat did not say anything.

"Years ago, you tried to kill me. Then, you decided to toy with me. Then you became my friend…now, you've already tried to eat me once, you've threatened my life, and the life of another…friend, and yet…you've also saved my life."

"Your point?"

"Why? What's the point of helping me if what you really want to do is kill me? And if you don't want to kill me, why threaten me? You apologized for what you did. It was wrong of me to lash out at you. If I hurt you, then I'm sorry."

The cat's eyes blazed.

"'Hurt' would be a gross understatement."

"Then let me apologize," Mally said. "I shouldn't have treated you that way, not after all you did for me. But YOU should not have hurt me, either."

The cat was silent. His fur was starting to bristle.

"Look," Mally said, taking another deep breath, "I don't want to go on like this. If you plan on killing me, then, by all means, do so now. However, if you want to be friends again, then let us be so."

And she turned her back on him, arms crossed, and waited.

She listened, waiting for him to take a bite out of her, or stick a claw through her, or…she hoped…apologize, or even…

She shuddered with delight…

And that's when she heard the door shut behind her.

She half-turned to look.

Chessur was nowhere in sight; he had either evaporated, or gone back inside.

She sighed sadly.

"I thought as much," she mumbled, and began to walk away.

She had scarcely gotten halfway through the orange tree circles when a familiar voice called out…

"Mally!"

She turned fast, and an equally familiar paw latched onto her arm.

"Russehc?"

"Mally, what are you doing here?"

The white dormouse glared, and snapped her hand away.

"I might ask you the same thing," she snarled. "Don't you know who lives here?"

"Yes; that's why I came here. We should leave."

Mally snorted.

"No," she said shortly. "You should, not we. I can take care of myself."

"True, but…"

"And another thing: the other day, when that other cat attacked me! Why didn't you tell Tarrant and Thackery the truth?"

"I…"

"You think they would've gotten angry? They were angrier that you lied more than anything else! 'Separated' indeed!"

"Mally, look…"

"And how did you get there so fast? I distinctly remember you doing what I told you, which meant running…in the OPPOSITE direction of the windmill!"

"Well, you see…"

"No! I don't see! That's the point! What were you trying to accomplish? What _are_ you trying to accomplish?"

**"Will you. Let me. Explain?"**

Mally shut her mouth. Russ sighed.

"When you told me to leave, I did as I was told, not because I was scared, but because I knew you wouldn't...function properly if I remained. As soon as I got behind the bushes, I circled back around, and headed for the windmill. That answers why I got there so fast, as you put it. As to why I made up the story, it was for the reason you have given: I did not want them upset with me because I left you alone. When we went looking for you, I realized I could not remember where you were, and, eventually, I gave up, and hoped the Hare and the Hatter found you. I went straight to the tea table this morning, to find out if you were all right, and came looking for you straight after. There. Does that answer all of your inquiries?"

Mally paused.

"Most of them," she said simply.

Russehc sighed quietly.

"Good," he said. "Judging from your tirade, I take it yesterday brought no ill effects."

Mally blinked, and turned away slightly.

"Very few," she said.

_The most important ones of which have yet to be resolved..._

The two were quiet.

"Mally?"

"Yes?"

"I...I feel I must redeem myself."

Mally stared.

"Redeem yourself?"

Russ nodded grimly.

"I want to take you somewhere special, as a repayment for your kindness to me in the short time we've known each other, and as an apology for my...untrustworthy actions yesterday."

Mally's eyes got even wider. Russ retained a serious, straight expression.

_Is...is he asking me on a...what did the Queen and Alice call them...?_

"A date?" Mally squeaked.

Russ lowered his gaze, twisting his foot nervously into the dirt.

"Well...not exactly, no...unless you WANT to call it one..."

Mally hesitated.

"Russ...I don't know..."

"Well, why not? Don't you trust me?"

Mally blinked.

"Wh-What?"

Russehc's eyes caught hers fast. He took a single step forward.

"Do you trust me?"

Mally hestitated only a moment more.

"Yes, I do."

_I guess..._

"Then will you accept my offer?"

Mally paused again.

"Yes. Where do you want to go?"

"Russehc" smiled a wide, tooth-covering smile, and recalled his "mastermind's" words the day before.

"Have you ever been to Drimdok's Hill at sunset?"


	17. Chapter 17

Notes: In the words of the Walrus, "the time has come." After a long hiatus of music in this story, the next few chapters, starting with this one, will each include bits from _Phantom of the Opera; _a few of the lyrics have been altered for the storyline's purposes_._ Nothing related to the musical belongs to me, and if, for whatever reason, these pieces must be removed, tell me; the last thing I want is to be kicked off the site for incompetence. This chapter was one of the few things I worked out before writing this story, as are most of the ending chapters. (Yes, my fiendish friends, we are nearing the end of this twisted tale!)

Also, a warning, mainly for my friend and fellow author, Katzsoa: Mallymkun is INTENTIONALLY written to be slightly out of character here. Please, to those of you who read this, do NOT complain about it in any reviews you send.

Now, enough of this babbling: prepare to be entranced – I hope – by the chapter all you "Phans" have been waiting for...

**Chapter XVII: Music of the Night (Corny, Aren't I?)**

"I din noo abou' this, Mally..."

"I understand your concern, Hatter, but it's unnecessary; one stupid mistake from Russ, like lying to try and get himself out of trouble, is forgivable. If he SHOULD try anything...well, that's what my pin-sword is for."

Such had been Mallymkun's parting words to the Hatter. She was now trying to hide a childish smile as she was led blindfolded up Drimdok's Hill – named after a great White Bishop, who had supposedly practiced the marriage of Underland's first king and queen there – by Russ, his paws around her eyes.

"No peeking, Mally," he purred.

Mally giggled.

"You realize how naïve this all is, don't you?"

"I don't play enough for my own good; seeing as you are in a playful mood yourself, I think you can forgive this child-like game, can't you?"

Mally just chuckled.

"It's rather nerve-wracking, you know..."

"What is?"

"Well...trusting you."

Russ stopped moving. Mally quickly realized the reason, and hastily added, "But not in a bad way."

Russ hesitated a moment more, then continued to move with her.

"We are almost there," he said.

"Can I look?"

"Not yet, not yet!" he chided gently. "Just a little longer..."

And, so, a little later...

"Okay, now look..."

Mally felt the paws lift from her eyes, and opened them.

She couldn't help but gasp in delighted surprise.

The sunset view from Drimdok's Hill was truly spectacular: Mally could see all of the Tulgey Woods from the hilltop, painted a rusty, amber color by the waning light of the great star. Pinks and reds and oranges melted into greens and pastel yellows, making everything look as if it was coated in a thin layer of molten gold. The sky was dark blue above her head, but gradually became more purple in color as it approached the circular shape of the Sun, creating a plum line around the life-giving orb far, far, far away.

The sight was enough to warm anybody's heart, and made even Mallymkun feel like a child, a feeling she had felt many times, but never so greatly as right now.

"It's...beautiful."

"I know," said Russ. "A friend brought me here, long ago. She told me that it was the most wonderful place she could think of."

Russ grew silent, and Mally turned to face him.

"What happened?" she asked.

"...The Horunvendush Day happened," he said, simply. "After Hightopps' Land was destroyed, and Witzend thus fell, the Queen sent soldiers to...destroy all our homes. I escaped, but my friend was caught. I never saw her again."

Mally had no words to speak with.

Russ smiled sadly.

"I miss her from time to time," he said. "But wounds close and scars fade. I barely remember her."

Mally nodded, unable to do anything else.

Russ chuckled, and walked up to the edge of the hill. He sat cross-legged on the ground, just gazing out over the woods. Mally paused, and then joined him, sitting close beside him.

Neither spoke a word. The sun sank lower and lower, the dark indigo of the sky expanding, the golden glow slipping away as twilight faded into night. The faint chirping of birds gave way to the distant hooting of owls; the musical chirping of crickets began to sound.

"Russ?"

"Hm?"

"He hurt me."

Russ stared, surprised by this sudden statement.

"Are you talking about your father?" he asked, carefully.

Mally, eyes closed and head held down, shook her head slowly.

"No," she said. "The 'somebody' I told you about once."

Russ blinked and, after a short time, waved a hand for her to continue.

"He...he got angry at me...I found him doing something, something I shouldn't have seen..."

"Was he with another lady?"

Mally stared. For some reason, she found that amusing; she started to laugh, unable to stop. Russ gaped, confused.

"N-no," she said, recovering after several seconds, and wiping a tear, brought on both by laughter and the pain in her chest, "Nothing like that..."

"Well, what did he do?"

"That I cannot say," Mally said, suddenly somber again. "All I can tell you is that it involved blood."

Russ glared.

"If he is a murderer," he said, darkly, "then why should he be angry with you? It isn't your fault he chooses to kill."

"It's nothing like that," Mally said again, this time with a hint of anger. Russehc shut his mouth tight.

Mally sighed.

"He...he grabbed me," she said. "He was so, so mad...in more ways than one...he pushed me up against a tree, told me 'I could never go free.'"

Russehc's glare grew darker and darker.

"And then, he...let me go. He was sad, sad that he hurt me...he was angry with himself. I was too frightened at the time to think of anything but the fact that he hurt me, and I had to run, afraid he'd do it again..."

She paused, blinking back tears.

"He...he came back a few days later, wanting to apologize...and I...I snapped."

"I would have, too."

"You don't understand!" Mally squeaked loudly, standing up and facing him with a maddened sort of stare. "He wanted me to forgive him! He could kill me, despite all my skills, with a swipe of his paw...literally! He didn't understand, either...I wanted to tell him I forgave him, but I was so confused! I...I couldn't think straight! Now he WANTS to kill me! He wants to hurt me, because I hurt him! I don't know what to do! Whenever I try to apologize, he either refuses to listen, or the words get stuck in my mouth...because...because..."

"Because...?" Russ questioned, softly, cautiously.

Here, it seemed, the white female could take no more. Dark streaks darted across the fur beneath her eyes, and Russ looked on with concern.

"Because...I think I still love him...he still gives my heart a funny sort of thrill...he still holds my heart in the palm of his hand. And I don't think he...I don't think he really knows how I feel, how much I care, and how much I'm hurting..."

She sobbed.

"It's all too mad..."

Russ watched her silently, as she sobbed two more times, sniffled, and sat back down, wiping her eyes on her apron.

"S-sorry," she said, apologetic, and embarrassed to have shown such...emotion around him. "I...I just...I think it's the sunset..."

"It's fine," said Russ, even quieter than usual. "I understand...or, at least, I think I do."

Both turned to look at the sunset again.

But the sun had disappeared.

All was blue and black in tone, but not ominously so; the crickets formed an orchestra, and the owls hoots kept the time. Bats cheeped and squealed, catching their meals, adding another layer to the nocturnal symphony. The breeze created a steady base.

All nature slept, yet didn't sleep at all.

Mally was about to suggest they go back to the windmill, when she heard something...something soft, lilting, and hauntingly familiar...

And it came from Russ.

_"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation...darkness stirs and wakes imagination...silently, the senses abandon their defenses..."_

The gray male in the blue derby stopped short, and blushed faintly when he noticed his companion staring at him.

"W-were you just...singing?"

Russ nodded weakly.

"Am I that bad?"

Mally shook her head.

"No, no! It's just, you sounded...sounded like..."

_Like Chess, when he sings to me..._

"Sounded like what?"

"Sounded like...you've had lots of practice."

Russ shrugged, and turned away, looking up at the stars.

Mally bit her lip, and paused.

"Russ?"

"Hm?"

"Could you please...sing some more?"

The dormouse blinked, surprised, then smiled, closing his eyes, and turned away.

_"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor. Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender..."_

Here Russ turned to Mally, and, gently, cautiously, took one of her hands in his. She looked up at him with some surprise as he rose to his feet, and she did the same.

_"Turn your face away from the garish light of day! Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light...and listen to the Music of the Night..."_

Russ extended his arm.

Mally hesitated, longer than she had ever hesitated around anyone before...

And slipped her arm into his, all the while thinking, _You'd think I was some dimwitted schoolgirl..._

Inside his mind, the Cheshire Cat was roaring like a lion.

With a soft smile, Russ began to head back for the tea table, Mally came with him.

_"Close your eyes, and surrender to your darkest dreams...purge your thoughts of the strife you knew before!_" sang Russehc softly, and brought two fingers to her eyes, teasingly closing them. Mally opened them up again fast and glared half-heartedly. _"Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar...and you'll live, as you've never lived before."_

Here Russ paused in his movements. Mally looked at him. He was focused on something above them.

She looked up.

It was the moon, set in a perfect crescent.

She shuddered, unable to think of anything about the moon aside from how similar it looked to Chessur's grin...

Could he be watching her right now?

Russehc felt her tense up, and squeezed her arm slightly, as if to comfort her. His ears perked up, and he gestured toward his left. Mally followed him.

A small, dull yellow flower bud was in the ground.

Mally raised an eyebrow at Russ, who looked at it raptly.

_"Softly, deftly, the Music shall carress you...hear it, feel it, secretly possess you..."_

The flower bud opened...revealing a marvelous pattern of yellows and purples and white, like a miniature star about to explode.

So beautiful, yet so deadly; as the star's explosion could cause destruction, so, too, could the poison the petals of the plant carried.

Russehc knew this, and the irony was not lost on him.

To Mallymkun, who knew nothing of the Comet Flower, a species native to Underland, it was simply a beautiful, previously unknown plant, and she could not look away. It was the second time that night she felt like a small girl, looking at something new and wonderful, like a shiny new toy.

She yawned, growing tired...

_"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in the darkness, which you know you cannot fight...the Darkness of the Music of the Night..."_

They began walking again, and Russ continued to sing...

_"Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world! Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before! Let your soul take you where you want to be...!"_

He stopped, feeling a pressure on his shoulder. He looked down at Mally.

He smirked.

She was not asleep, but reaching it...lost somewhere, lulled by the enchantment, into a place somewhere between dreams and reality.

"Russehc" had seen her like this once before, not long after the Frabjous Day...but she had been with the Mad Hatter then.

Now she was with him.

And, under the circumstances, he allowed himself a bit more liberty.

_"...Only then...can you belong...to me..."_

Gently, he moved her, so that he was carrying her in his arms, as if she was his bride – he hoped it would not be long till that thought became real – and continued...

_"Floating...falling...sweet intoxication..."_

He tenderly held one of her paws to his cheek, and felt his heart surge with a sense of triumph when she sighed in her half-asleep state.

_"Touch me...TRUST me...savor each sensation..."_

He released her hand. It fell onto her chest, and she yawned softly.

_"Let the dream begin...let your mind finally give in...to the power of the songs beyond the light...the Power of the Music of the Night."_

It was if he controlled her.

She fell asleep at once.

Russehc blinked at her.

Then, knowing she would not know...

SWOOMPH.

They were at the tea table. The Hatter was slumped in his chair in sleep, and the Hare had his head leaned back, snoring loud enough to send his head off his shoulders.

A gray-blue-black striped cat now sat on the table, holding a small, white dormouse in his mouth like a kitten. Gently, he opened up the teapot she called a home, and dropped her into her bed. He moved the leafy covers over her, and shut the lid.

_"You alone can make my song take flight...help me make the Music of the Night..."_

He sighed, lullaby finished.

"Goodnight, dormousey," he purred to himself, and disappeared.

He never once noted the pair of bright, red eyes watching him, shadowed by the brim of a tall, tall hat.

_I'll bide my time...Chess._


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter XVIII: Considerations**

The sound of stone against steel scraped against the Cheshire Cat's sensitive ears as he evaporated into view at the back of the White Rabbit's house.

Beside the shed that contain his array of practice dummies, Billnor Creole was sharpening the blade of his saber. He glanced up at the cat, and then continued his work with concentration.

"And how did it go?"

"Worked like a charm…I've never seen her so…"

"So…?"

"So…unlike herself."

Bill raised an eyebrow, and then turned away again.

"I have," he said simply.

Chessur nodded and then sighed, gazing at the ground thoughtfully. Bill looked up at him again, standing from his work, running a scaly finger along the edge of his blade.

"What's the matter, kitten?"

Chess glared at the nickname, and then dropped his gaze again.

"The plan. I knew from the beginning, but…the farther I get into it, the more I realize it's not… right…"

Bill blinked slowly, an amused smirk beginning to slide into view across his green lips.

"Do you want to call it off?"

"I can't," said the cat. "Like a clumsy spider, I've caught myself in my own web; there isn't any backing out now…"

He looked up again.

"But I'm considering it anyway."

Bill chuckled.

"Have you considered something else recently?" he pressed, idly sweeping his blade through the air, testing its weight.

Chess looked up questioningly, one ear twitching.

"I've considered several things, Creole…what are you referring to?"

"Oh, just the fact that you may be developing that annoying little thing known as a conscience," Bill said innocently, without looking up.

"A conscience? About what?"

"The girl, of course."

Chess scoffed.

"Oh, please, you're being ridiculous, lizard…"

"I'm not. I'm being experienced. If I may say so, this time you've chosen a fascinating victim. I would not be half surprised if, within the times I know you haven't told me about, you've broken your own first rule and gotten yourself muddled and of two minds about everything."

Chessur hissed.

"If I had any sort of conscience, I wouldn't be doing this."

"Ah, but if you _didn't_ have one, you wouldn't feel that this was wrong, hm?"

The cat blinked, and then sighed.

"I hate it when you are right."

"Most people do. The 'show' is in a week; best be prepared."

"I have a costume set up. She…"

He trailed off. Bill crossed his arms patiently, waiting.

"She came to my door, as I thought she would. I had hoped she'd stop by when I wasn't around. I was working on the costume at the time, and I wanted her to leave, so I tried to get her to go as quickly as possible."

"How?"

"By being as impatient as I could. Not difficult, under the circumstances. I finished and then caught up with her, using my other costume, so to speak. She agreed to come with me in the evening, to see the sunset, just as you had suggested."

Bill's eyes narrowed.

"All very good, but there's something you aren't telling me that sounds like something I want to know. Say it."

Chess squirmed.

"She…she says she still loves me…"

Bill said nothing.

"And?"

"That's it. She didn't say it, but I read it in her eyes: not only does she love me as…well, me…but she loves Russehc as well."

"Referring to yourself as two people is dangerous; we're all mad here, as I know you've said before, but some sorts of insanity are best not revealed."

"That is entirely beside the point, Creole," snarled the cat. "The fact is, I've dug my own grave, and now I must lie in it. She wants me in two ways, and now I don't know what to do about either one."

Bill thought for a moment.

"Propose," he said at last.

Chessur's eyes grew even larger than normal.

"Wh-what?"

"Propose, as either one you think she'd prefer. If she says no, the other one gets her. Either way, you win. Game over."

Chess stared for a moment longer, then his eyes returned to their usual width.

"It'll be the dormouse, then," he said softly.

Bill scowled.

"After all this, you still…?"

"I know she loves me as a cat," Chess snapped. "Or at least…I think she does. She said she does. But I don't think she really means it."

"Mally is not one for lies."

"No, but she is one for confusing herself, and I'm certainly not helping there. What if what she thinks is love is something else? I don't want to hurt her, Creole…physically, mentally, or emotionally. But I've already done all three as a cat. My mask, so to speak, hasn't. Not to her knowledge."

"Pain builds things, just as often as it causes destruction," Bill said wisely. "If she wants you despite the pain…"

"Then she doesn't know what she wants," Chess growled, "and you aren't going to change my mind that way."

Creole glared and then sighed.

"Well, you can't say I didn't try…"


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter XIX: Invitations**

The brim of the top hat shadowed the menacing smile of the Mad Hatter as he saw the gray dormouse approach.

Every fiber of him wanted to tear his "guest" apart…but he knew better. A rage would do no good.

No…it was better to find out what the _slurvish_ cat was up to. Once he figured it out, he could do something about it.

"Mally," he whispered, smiling. "Will you please excuse me? I just remembered an order for a hat that needs to be completed, and I believe I left my supplies inside the windmill."

The dormouse shrugged.

"That's fine," she said.

"Thackery?"

"Scones!"

"Excellent! I'll be back as soon as possible…"

And Tarrant left the table.

Mally heard someone jump onto the table. She smiled behind the rim of her miniature teacup when she saw Russehc standing at the edge. He smiled at the March Hare.

"Good day, Mr. Earwicket," he said.

_"Fairnee!"_ Thackery said, spreading some butter on a slice of toast. "Booter…"

Russ chuckled softly, and then smiled at Mally. She smiled back quietly.

"Good morning, Mally."

"Good morning, Russ."

"Where is Hatter?"

"In the windmill; said he had a hat to work on."

Russ shrugged.

"I saw him leave the table…just didn't know why."

"Won'tcha set doon?" the Hare grinned, tapping a spoon on the chair usually reserved for Russehc.

Russ sighed in mock sadness.

"Sadly, Mr. Earwicket, I cannot stay."

"Whyever not?" Mally asked, trying to sound more curious than disappointed; she was both.

"I have something for you," he said in reply. "I hope it answers your question…"

Russ held out a small card to the white dormouse, who took with her eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement.

Written on the card were the words _Danksderim Day Masquerade._

Mally stared.

"I know about this!" she squeaked. "Tarrant's been working on costumes for the three of us for weeks! The Queen told him to make sure the party suits were the best he ever made. Alice is supposed to come, too…"

She looked at him questioningly.

"How did you get an invitation?"

"Well, it seems one certain guest could not make it, so there was room for one more person, and…"

"Well, who won't be there? And who suggested you could come instead?"

"I'm not sure who the absentee was, but it appears someone named…Creole said I could come."

Mally stared, eyes wider than her teacup. The Hare gasped.

"Creole?"

"Och! Gae! Hide meh!"

The Hare ducked under the table. Russ blinked at his now-empty chair, and then turned back to Mallymkun.

"I take it you know him?"

Mally nodded slowly.

"He was my swordmaster…he's always invited to the Queen's parties. And he always comes. But he's not the sort to suggest people he doesn't know about…"

"Hm. Well, anyway, I'm going, and I was wondering if…"

He paused, suddenly looking nervous.

"Was wondering what?"

"I was wondering if…you were going with the Hare or the Hatter."

Mally stared at him as if he had just asked if the word "successes" had the letter "s" anywhere in it.

"We always go to the White Queen's parties. We're always together."

Russ nodded.

"Well...I was thinking, since you'd be going, and I'd be going…"

Mally rolled her eyes at the male's embarrassment.

"Russ, do you want me to act as your 'date' again?"

Russ bit his lip.

"No…I just wanted to know if you wanted to have the first dance with me at the party."

Mally blinked.

"That's all?"

The gray dormouse nodded.

Mally shrugged.

"Sure."

Russ smiled.

"They'll count us as a couple," he said.

"I know. We'll pretend for them. Just dress to match."

"My costume is ready; it's mostly brown and red."

"Then there is nothing to worry about. Tarrant's dress for me is, as well. Goodbye."

Russ smiled and ran off.

The March Hare peeked up from under the table.

"M-M-Mally?"

"Yes, Thackery?"

"Y-ye've got tha' s-s-scary smyle on yer face…whatcha plannin'?"

Mally laughed.

"I'm not planning anything, Thackery…but I think I'm going to enjoy myself at the masquerade immensely."

"I'm sure you will," came the flute like voice of the Hatter, who was just now approaching the table. "Especially seeing as that _slurking_ cat won't be there…"

Mally's smile vanished.

"What?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Tarrant said with a slight frown. "The Queen told me that Chessur had declined the invitation. I thought the other day, when you said you were going to go talk to him in the morning, he would have told you…"

Mally turned away, looking startled.

Then her eyes returned to usual.

"Well, that's probably for the best…he'll most likely try to devour my new dancing partner…"

The Hatter just smiled in response.

But, unseen by his friends, his eyes were smoldering orange and red.


	20. Chapter 20

Notes: Part of the songs _Masquerade_ and _Don Juan_ from _Phantom of the Opera_ appear in this chapter. The segment from _Don Juan_ has been slightly rewritten for this story. Also, the following chapter takes its title from another song, and the lyrics of that song will be featured in the chapter. I have no ownership of the songs or _Phantom of the Opera_ whatsoever. Now…

**Chapter XX: The Show Starts…**

A gray dormouse smiled at himself in the mirror.

No one was around to see him, so it was safe for his teeth to be seen.

He looked over his outfit with self-admiration; he had gotten the idea from an Overland book he had read once, on a day of no significance. He wore a long, brown-&-red cape, and a brown vest and red shirt. Brown breeches were on his hind legs, and he wrapped a red, silk mask, which was made from a bit of a handkerchief, around his face; the silk covered the proportions of the rodent's head easily.

_"Seal my fate tonight,"_ he hissed tonight. _"I hate to have to cut the fun short…but the joke's wearing thin, and this game's one I must win. Let the true masked ball begin…"_

With a chuckle, he exited the dressing room.

The Marmoreal ballroom was magnificent; everything sparkled a vanilla color, the turquoise and white tiles set in a chessboard pattern on the floor. It was a circular room, with a staircase at one side that led up to a balcony, atop which were visible some people (and animals) chatting with each other excitedly, sipping from cups of _maarond,_ a traditional drink usually served on Danksderim Day. People in costumes that were all the shades of the rainbow swirled about; none were the sort found on Frighetnacht, most made of ornate dresses and suits, with colorful masks upon their faces.

As he moved to the edge of the floor, he spotted his "partner-in-crime" nearby. He was dressed in a black homburg hat, cape, and jacket, with a black domino mask over his eyes. At one side he wore his letter-opener saber. He heard "Russ" approach, but did not turn to look at him.

"She hasn't arrived yet," he said flatly, and then looked the double-disguised rodent over. "You look dashing."

"And you look like you're going to a funeral."

The lizard laughed.

"If you aren't careful, it might be suitable for your own, kitten."

"Please, Creole…not here…" hissed the gray male.

Bill shrugged and turned away again. He smirked, ears directing their attention to the band, playing a fast-paced, yet elegant tune. The dancers swirled and swooped like birds (considering many of them were flamingoes, this was a more accurate analogy than one would expect).

_"Masquerade!"_ they sang. _"Paper Faces on parade! Masquerade! Hide your face, so the world will never find you! Masquerade! Every face a different shade! Masquerade! Turn around! There's another mask behind you!"_

_ Oh, the irony_, the gecko thought.

At that point the ballroom doors opened.

"Aha!" the gray dormouse whispered. "There she is!"

Bill turned to look.

The Hatter entered first, dressed in an elegant suit of scarlet, with a mask, gloves, and boots of dark blue. Instead of his usual hat, he wore a different top hat, this one matching his gloves and mask. Alice, meanwhile, wore and inverted sort of costume; her mask, gloves, and shoes were crimson, but she wore a lovely party gown of deep blue. Without hesitation, the two headed for the dance floor.

The March Hare entered next. He was fidgeting and fussing with his bow tie, dressed in a green tuxedo. He jabbered mindlessly, trying to get the tie to work right, but it kept coming undone, much to his dismay.

Finally, Mallymkun entered.

She wore an elegant dress of brown, with red lace trimmings. A brown mask covered her eyes, adorned with the red feathers of a cardinal. Even at such an event, she was not without caution; her belt, with her blade and scabbard, was wrapped around her slender waist.

It was a simple costume, but simplicity does not equal lack of beauty; sometimes the simplest things are the best.

To the gray male, she looked positively gorgeous.

The lizard grinned.

"I suppose I'll leave you two to your own devices then," he said simply, and ascended the stairs.

His back turned to the lovebirds below, he frowned darkly.

The Cheshire Cat – in – disguise may have missed the murderous glare of the Mad Hatter as he walked past them, but he had learned to stay observant of such things.

If something went wrong, he needed a back-up plan.

He glanced at the ballroom chandelier as he arose; it was really just a prop chandelier, only raised on certain occasions, and relatively lightweight; a rope held it up, rather than a chain. The pulley that allowed for the lowering and raising of the chandelier was up on the balcony area, where he was headed.

He paused as he moved, and smiled.

_Perfect…_

Below, the two dormice looked at each other for a moment.

"You look beautiful," said Russ.

Mally shrugged.

"It's nothing…"

_Compared to yours…_

He smiled softly, as always, and held out one arm.

She took it immediately.

Elsewhere, the Mad Hatter glared at them over Alice's shoulder.

_I'll show her who you are,_ he thought darkly. _Very, very soon…_

Neither noticed him; they were to enraptured with the other.

"You dance wonderfully," whispered Russ.

Mally shivered slightly.

"Thank you," she said. "I studied with Tarrant."

Russehc raised an eyebrow, barely visible through the eye holes in his mask.

"How does a man teach a dormouse to dance?"

"When that man is the Mad Hatter, he does so easily. All you have to do is copy him; we never danced together."

"Have you ever had a partner…to dance with, that is?"

She blushed.

"A few…none of them were very good."

"How bad were they?"

She smirked as they spun in a wide circle.

"One of them left me with blistered toes by the time we were finished. My paws were sore for a week…"

Russ chuckled.

"Well, then I hope the only blisters you'll get are from dancing too much with me, not from my own paws…"

Mally smiled and shrugged in response.

"What was his name?"

Mally bit her lip in thought.

"…Fawlknen? Flockner? I really don't remember…I just remember that I wasn't particularly impressed."

"You seem hard to impress at all…I hope I'm doing something right."

Mally smiled wider.

"You have no idea."

Russ chuckled again, and the two were silent.

_"Masquerade!"_ sang the band, as they concluded their song. _"Burning glances, turning heads! Masquerade! Take a look at the sea of smiles around you! Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds! Masquerade! Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!"_

As the band finished, all dancing stopped. The White Queen herself, dressed in a white feathered mask with silver beads and a white party dress headed to the center of the room.

"All right!" she said. "The dance is over! Please, everyone head for the dining room for the feast! The meal will be served shortly!"

Muttering and gabbering, everybody headed for the dining room.

Well…almost everybody.

Bill, on the balcony, and Russ, on the floor, exchanged a glance. Bill nodded, and gestured toward the band.

Mally was about to follow when an arm caught her own. She turned, curious, towards Russ. The music began again…this time it was a soft, haunting, but somewhat "spicy" melody, like a waltz on a floor of fire.

Russ smirked, unseen by Mally due to his mask.

"They can wait."

"But, the Queen…"

"Will understand, I'm sure, Mally. I've prepared a little surprise for you, and I have a question to ask…"

Mally raised an eyebrow, hoping the flutter of excitement she had was at least somewhat surpressed.

"What would that be?"

Russ smiled.

"To quote an old poem, 'will you, won't you, will you, won't you…won't you join the dance?'"

"…Again?"

Russ smiled a bit wider behind his mask.

"Yes. One more dance."

Mally sighed.

"Very well. What are we dancing to?"

Russehc's grin was so wide it now revealed his teeth; it was lucky for him the mask remained in place.

"It's a piece I wrote myself. I call it..."


	21. Chapter 21

Notes: For katzsoa: tis time for the cat's comeuppance. Also, some lyrics have been changed in this song for story purposes. As I said in the previous chapter, I own it not.

**Chapter XXI: "…The Point of No Return"**

As Russ spoke the name of the song, he took one of Mally's paws in his own, and then moved her other arm down, so that they were positioned as if to waltz. Slowly…very slowly…he began to move, guiding her to the left.

_"You have come here,"_ he sang, _"In pursuit of your deepest urge. In pursuit of that wish, which, till now, has been silent…silent…"_

He slowly turned her in a circle. She moved with him easily, raising an eyebrow at the lyrics, honestly unsure of what he meant, but thinking that it sounded…good…

_"I have brought you," _he went on, _"that our motions may fuse and merge. In your mind you've already succumbed to it…dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to it…"_

"That depends on what you mean…"

A finger on her mouth kept her from saying more. She glared half-heartedly. She could see the smile in his eyes.

_"Now, you are here with me. No second thoughts. It's decided…decided…"_

The music rose in volume, and he pulled away from her, beginning to circle around. He indicated she do the same, and she did so.

_"Past the Point of No Return…no backward glances…the games we've played till now are at an end! Past all thought of if, or when…no use resisting…abandon thought and let the dream descend!"_

Without warning, he moved toward her, and grabbed her hand, spinning her around as he sang. She squeaked in surprise, and fell silent, looking up at him with wide eyes.

_"What raging fires shall flood the soul? What rich desires unlock its door? What strange adventures lie before us?"_

Again, he brought her close, and moved her in a circle. She stared, never speaking, as he went on…

_"Past the Point of No Return…the Final Threshold…what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn, Beyond the Point of No Return?"_

He fell silent, holding her against him. She remained silent as well.

A small crowd of people, hearing the band and soft voices, had opened the door and were looking out through the portal of the door. Neither of the two dancers noticed them.

On the balcony above, Billnor Creole watched with a cool expression, waiting to see what happened next. His black costume blended with the shadows perfectly, allowing him a state near invisibility as he leaned against the floor-set pulley for the chandelier of the ballroom.

Mally shivered when she felt Russehc's silk mask brush against her sensitive ear.

"Mally? Your turn to lead."

Mally looked at him.

"I lead?"

"This dance is about partnership; partners take up equal portions. Besides, I'd think you'd like being in charge, wouldn't you?"

Mally bit her lip and nodded; recently, she hadn't been feeling "in charge" of anything truly significant.

"Do you want me to sing?"

"If you like."

Mally smiled and took the position to continue.

And after a moment, much to the gecko above and the crowd at the door's surprise…

_"You have brought me to that moment where words run dry…to that moment when speech disappears into silence…silence…"_

She moved him around; it felt good to be the one in control, she thought, in a dance or anything else, and she felt she was getting the hang of this dance…

_"I have come here, hardly knowing the reasons why…in my mind, I've already imagined…"_

She stopped abruptly. Russ looked at her patiently as the dance slowed.

"You don't have to sing everything…you can skip until you can find lyrics," he said softly.

Mally paused a moment more, and then went on, from a different part, as she pulled away from him and they circled.

_"Now, I am here with you…no second thoughts…I've decided…decided…"_

As this exchange went on, the Hatter rose from his spot on the table and moved toward the door.

"Hatter?" Alice said. "What is wrong?"

The White Queen, at the head of the table, noticing the crowd and the Hatter's movement, stood up, curious.

On the balcony, Bill placed a hand on the hilt of his saber, spotting the orange-toned eyes of the Mad Hatter…

_"Past the Point of No Return…no going back now…our final play has now, at last, begun. Past all thought of right or wrong…one final question: how long should we two wait before we're one?"_

She grabbed him, and spun him around, laughing softly at how odd the motion seemed to her; in a normal dance, even in Underland, she'd be the one spinning.

Her head already was…

_"When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?"_

Here they sang together…

_"Past the Point of No Return! The Final Threshold! The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn! We've passed the Point of No Return…"_

They finished, and bowed to each other.

Only then did Mally see the small crowd at the door, as the White Rabbit, who was among them, began to applaud. She stared, mortified.

_Did…did I just…?_

She wasn't sure whether to kill something, run away, or giggle like a schoolgirl.

Russ stepped back a bit, and then glanced up at the balcony.

Bill's shadowy form nodded.

Behind the mask, the rodent grinned widely.

"Mally?" he whispered.

Mally turned toward him, red in the face. He gestured for her to come closer. She did. He took her paws in his. She frowned.

"I am NOT giving you a third dance."

Russ chuckled.

"No…that's not what I want at all."

There was a pause.

"Then…why are you holding my hands?"

Now it was Russehc's turn to hesitate.

"Mally," he said. "I want you to say something to me…"

"What?"

He paused a little longer, and then leaned in, to whisper in her ear, not wanting others to hear…

_"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…"_

At this point, the white dormouse's heart seemed to go numb in her chest. Her eyes were now so wide she seemed to have lost her eyelids.

_"Lead me, save me, from my solitude…"_

"R-Russ…I…"

_"Say you want me with you, here, beside you…anywhere you go, let me go, too…"_

Mally moved away from him slightly. She looked into his eyes, her own expression utterly stunned.

_Say yes! _Half of her screamed. _Oh, for the love of the Jub-Jub Bird, say YES, you dimwit!_

_ But…what about Chess…?_

_ The cat doesn't want you anymore…this one does. And you want him._

_ …But…_

_ "Mally," _Russ said, a little louder, with a sense of growing desperation, _"that's all I ask of-"_

_ "SLURKING GUDDLER'S SCUT _OF A _**CAT!"**_

__The sudden shriek of fury from the Mad Hatter silenced the murmurs of the crowded doorway, along with everything else, as a chair flew out of the dining room and straight at Russehc. Mallymkun ducked to one side, and Russ did the same…

And his mask fell.

All but two people – an anxious gecko and an outraged Hatter – stared with shock.

The grinning mouth of the gray dormouse held two rows of deadly, razor-sharp fangs.

There was a silence for a long, long time.

Mally and Chessur – we may now use his real name – looked at each other with matching expressions of utter horror.

In the dormouse's head, the pieces were coming together.

_Russehc equals Chessur backwards._

_ Gray fur…doesn't mind being alone, but wants someone…stolen home…ability to get places faster than I can measure…_

_ It was him._

_ All the time it was him…_

_ It was him…_

_ IT WAS HIM…!_

Red clouded her vision, but before she could pull out her weapon, several things all happened at once…

First, Tarrant Hightopp raced forward, a butter knife held over his head.

Second, Bill, slashed his saber at the rope that held up the chandelier.

Third, the Queen and several of her courtiers gasped and cried out as the chandelier shuddered and began to fall.

Tarrant, eyes snapping green again, quickly moved back.

But Mallymkun, still in a state of shock, never even noticed the chandelier…dropping towards her.

Bill stared, willing himself not to cry out.

_No! This wasn't supposed to happen!_

Such was the thought of pretty much everyone present.

Almost on instinct, Chessur grabbed Mally by the front of her dress and practically threw her out of the way.

SWOOMPH.

CRASHK!

No one was hurt, but the chandelier was a wreck, and the Cheshire Cat was gone. Bill eased his way out the door, unnoticed, while the Hatter ran over to Mallymkun.

The white dormouse lay on the floor. Tears were in her eyes, but she did not move a muscle, just staring at the destroyed chandelier.

"Mally?" whispered the Hatter.

It would have given the Jabberwocky chills as the dormouse finally spoke.

"I'll kill him," she said monotonously. "I'll kill him…I'll kill him…"


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter XXII: Unforgivable?**

"…I'LL KILL HIM!"

These three words (one a contraction) spilled in an endless torrent from Mallymkun's mouth. She ran through Tulgey Woods wildly, slashing at everything and anything she saw.

She had been doing this all night, after running out of Marmoreal castle after the ballroom had gone to pot, and was still in the process of attempted destruction this morning. She had left several dead insects, a good many slashed trees, and enough cut grass to make a golfing field. Several owls had spotted her, but wisely chose to leave her be; this maddened mouse would not be made a meal out of very soon.

Especially when all she could say, see, hear, and think were the words, "I'LL KILL HIM!"

Finally, exhausted, Mallymkun dropped her blade…

"I'll KILL him…"

Fell to her knees…

"I'll kill him…"

Lay down in the grass at her feet...

"I'll kill…"

And began to cry.

"…Kill…"

She didn't know how long she cried, but all she knew was that she managed to cry herself to sleep.

When she woke up, it was already noon. She did not say or think anything; she felt numb, inside and out. Slowly, sadly, she rose, picking up her pin-sword and sheathing it…only to sit down on a rock nearby.

She sat there for what seemed like hours, but was merely a matter of about two minutes. Her head hung down, ears and whiskers drooping, fur stained with dried tears, her eyes gazing, dismal and unblinking, at the ground. Even though she had just woken up, every muscle in her body felt tired, and sick...and her brain was so jumbled she couldn't even make sense of her own thoughts…

_Hatter…cat…grin…kill…crash…Queen…crazy…tea…derby…blood…bird…mask…_

"You look awful."

Her reactions slowed, she blinked and turned to the source of the voice, her brain processing a single word.

_Bill…_

"Feel awful," she said, voice slurred distinctly, and turned away again.

Bill, still in costume, minus his domino mask, frowned and approached her. When she made no show of protest, he sat beside her.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Yes."

"You don't look like it…"

_"Yes."_

Bill's eyes widened slightly, taken a bit aback by her snappish voice. She glared at him for a moment, then turned her eyes down again, looking all the more glum.

"Sorry…"

"It's all right…even if you did sleep, you're clearly tired."

Mally nodded and took in a deep, shuddering breath.

"I am going to kill him," she said in a slow, jerky sort of way, like a person who knows they have drunk to much _maarond_ trying to speak clearly.

Bill sighed.

"So I guessed," he said simply.

Mally looked at him with dull eyes.

"How'd you find me?"

Bill smirked.

"Really, Mallymkun? With my deductive reasoning, my superior intellect, and my remarkable swordsmanship? Besides, it was easy to follow the trail of minor destruction."

The dormouse just nodded and turned away again.

"I'm disappointing you, aren't I?"

Bill stared, surprised by the question.

"Why would you think that?"

Mally glanced at him quickly, and turned away fast, making a vague gesture at herself.

Bill smiled.

"Emotions aren't weakness; you and I are among the most emotional people I know, in fact. People have said so. Now, the emotion most see in us is anger, but we still show that, among other things."

"Like love."

Bill's smile diminished.

"Yes. Like love."

"You helped him, didn't you?"

Bill said nothing.

"I know you did: he mentioned your name. You don't just mention the name of Billnor Creole; you've said so yourself. And I spotted you with him at the party."

Bill remained silent, still.

Slowly, a low growl began to rise in Mally's throat.

_"Answer me,"_ she hissed.

Bill did not.

Without any other warning, Mallymkun's muscles found strength again, and her pin-sword was in her hand. She slashed at Bill…

But the gecko had expected this, and his movements, more experienced and unfatigued, were far faster. He easily blocked it.

"ANSWER ME, BLAST YOU!" shrieked the dormouse, wildly slashing at him. "ANSWER ME!"

Bill gracefully parried every blow. When the dormouse reeled back for a strong strike, he ducked and whipped his blade upward, sending the pin-sword flying. Before Mally could react to the loss of her prized weapon, he leveled his saber's point at her throat.

Both glared daggers at each other.

"After the cat," snarled Mallymkun, "You're next."

"You can't kill me, Mally," he responded darkly. "Not that you won't, but that you can't. Not now, not later, not years ago."

The dormouse said nothing.

Bill sighed again, but his saber remained where it was.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Mally," he said softly. "Neither did he. I wanted what I thought was best…I just tried to get it for you the wrong way."

Mally scoffed.

"Your ability to choose correctly, _Master,_ is deteriorating."

Bill glared again.

"I am not your father, Mallymkun," he hissed, "But speak to me like that again before I am finished, and, by the Blood of the Jabberwocky, I shall run you through here and now."

Mally bit her lip so hard she might have drawn blood, and clenched her fists.

"He started this plan in motion, not I. The Cheshire Cat realized that if he was to succeed in his manipulative little scheme, he would have to find the right person to assist him. Your Hatter and the March Hare clearly would not have done so. So he came to me. I said yes."

"Why?"

"Because while felines have never been creatures I hold in high regard, and most especially not him, I saw the way he would look at you, and how you would look at him. As seductive and taunting as he is with all females, the only one he showed real…interest in was you. You may not have known it at first, but you held the exact same stare. When he told me he loved you, I was ready to believe it."

Mally's eyes widened, and her fists loosened, but did not open completely.

"H-he said he loved me?"

Bill nodded.

Mally paused for a moment, and then her expression hardened again.

"Then why did he deceive me? Manipulate me? Threaten me? Why did he hide from me and act like something and someone he wasn't?"

"Well-"

"No, don't answer. I think I can guess. He did it to make sure he could have me. Like I was some sort of prize he had to compete for. Like I was just an expensive toy, the last one on the market. And the only person who could possibly win was him to begin with. But he couldn't stand the thought of someone else getting hold of me, so he decided to _force_ me…"

Here her eyes grew watery once more.

"And I fell for it, like Alice fell down after McTwisp…head over heels…"

"Yes," Bill admitted. "That was pretty much it…for a while, anyway."

Mally looked up, knowing there was more.

"He wanted to call it off, Mally. By the time he realized what was happening was wrong and cruel, neither of us could back out. As he put it, 'we dug our own graves, and had to lie in them.' The longer it went on, the deeper those graves got. By the time the party came, and he admitted to this, we were already beyond six feet…I believe we were pressing twelve."

"Then why do it at all?" Mally snapped. "Before any of this happened, I was willing to forgive him! If anyone needed to be forgiven, it was me! I would have begged him for forgiveness after I hurt him…and I was ready to tell him I forgave him for what he tried to do. I understood! At least…I THINK I understood! But, no. There was no fun in that…he just had to hurt me again, didn't he? He…"

**"Mally. Stop talking."**

"No. No, I will not!"

_**"ENOUGH!"**_

__There was silence.

"You hurt him more than you can imagine," Bill said. "I had never seen him in a state of such angst. He didn't think you would forgive him, and he didn't want to hurt you again. He wanted you to be happy, just as I did, and still do. He thought that if he took a form more…compatible with you, he could start things over between you. The two of us were complete idiots, perhaps one more than the other: him for thinking any of it would work, and myself for helping him out, when I knew from the start all was doomed to disaster."

Mally glared, suspicious.

"How can I know you mean anything you say? You and the cat have fed me enough lies to last nine lifetimes. What makes you think you can get forgiveness for what you have done?"

"I don't want forgiveness…I just want you to know our flawed reasoning. And I know it might be too early, or else improbable, to gain your trust again. I suspect he does, too. And I suspect he's suicidal about now."

Both were very quiet for a very long time.

Slowly, Bill reached into his pocket with his free arm – his blade still pointed at the dormouse – and pulled out a small, circular box of gold, inlaid with gemstones of various kinds. He pressed a button, and the box opened. Chimes began to ring out from it…

And, on the inside of the lid, Mally clearly spotted a faded, black-&-white photograph of two geckos: one a male, one a female.

"The lady is…was my wife, Aletheia" Bill said. "The only other people to see this picture are the White Rabbit and Pat. She made this box for me, because she wanted me to remember her whenever I went anywhere away from home…which was very often. I keep it to this day."

"What's your point?" Mally whispered, refusing to be swayed.

"I haven't gotten to it yet. On the day she gave me this box, I was off on another mission: a rebellious knight, Jacobyd Carpenter, had rallied an army of renegades, and I, along with other soldiers, were out to stop him. We won the battle, but when I returned home…she was gone. The box had been a kiss farewell."

There was a cold, damp moment of silence. Even the birds and bugs in the trees were quiet.

"The choice of forgiveness is yours to make. As is the choice on who to love. Just don't make the mistake I made; one of you has already done that."

Mally hesitated a moment, then said, "I forgive you…but I can't promise not to gut him like a trout when I see him."

Bill smiled, and sheathed his blade, pocketing the box at the same time.

"Thank you," he said simply. "You'll find him where he'd find you."

And without another word, he spun on his heel, and left.


	23. Chapter 23

Notes: First of all: I know, she's forgiving him terribly fast, but I'm a sucker, and I think I've drawn things out long enough. For this, and something else in this chapter, to katzsoa I say: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. Second of all, this chapter contains part of the song _Final Lair_ from _Phantom of the Opera._ Like most musical things in here, a few lyrics have been revised for story purposes. Third of all, there is a short quote here from an old radio program, _The Edgar Bergen Show. _I own-eth nothing that is found here. (Ye who can locate the quote from the radio show shall earn a virtual cupcake!)

Moving along…

**Chapter XXIII: Let's Try This Again…**

He was going to kill himself.

That was utterly and totally decided upon.

The question was how to do it.

He could always go to the windmill…Tarrant would doubtlessly take great delight from impaling him with his claymore and turning him into a bonnet for Alice.

No…death-by-Mad-Hatter sounded far too painful.

Not that he deserved mercy…

He gazed down into the water, the twilight making things all the more depressing. Everything about him seemed to sag; his whiskers and ears were dipped, his head was hung down, his tail was limp and still, and his grin looked more like a grimace. His eyes were watery; he hadn't cried yet, but it wouldn't be long before tears fell. His insides felt like they had sunk into his toes.

Hmm…water. Drowning sounded much more gentle…

No; the irony in feeding fish, rather than feeding on them, was too much.

He was just contemplating how nice and thick the vines on a tree nearby looked when…

"There you are."

He knew that voice…

He LOVED that voice…

He did not want to hear that voice again…

"Go away."

"Oh, right. Like I'd ever listen to an order from you again."

He growled, still refusing to turn and look at her.

"Do you understand English, rodent? Leave."

"Maybe later. Right now, I have no inclination to do so. A third of me wants to stab you."

Chess gulped.

"What does the rest want?"

"Well, a second third wants to feed you to the Bandersnatch."

He winced.

"I don't want to know what the last third wants," he said softly.

"It's the only thing keeping me from doing both," she said.

Silence. For a moment, the Cheshire Cat began to think she had left…

"You've hurt me," she began, her voice cold and angry, but not murderous. "You've manipulated and deceived me. You've broken my heart and you've stabbed me in the back. When we danced, you made me feel the illusion of control, and I believed in that illusion. You ultra-violated my trust, you shuffled me like a deck, you framed me like a picture. Even before this happened, you've hurt me: you toyed with me before we were even friends, you left me to die, and, not so long ago, you tried to kill me. And the worst part? I never once tried to rein you in. I let you hurt me, although I knew, deep down, all of it would lead to disaster…no matter which you I chose in the end."

"I get the point," hissed the cat. "If you are here to murder me, then, please, by all means, end my miserable existence. We've both suffered enough from my crimes."

"Not yet," Mally snarled. "Not until you tell me why you did what you did. Then I'll decide how painfully I'll finish you."

Chessur sighed deeply.

"As if I could deny you," he muttered, and then began. "When you saw me kill that bird, you saw a part of me I hadn't wanted you to see since before we sealed our friendship. My sense of humor has often been dark and rough at times, but I never meant you harm. But then, when you saw me kill the bird…I knew things would never be the same. I grew angry. And, in such a state of mind as I was, anger became bloodlust…you should know how that feels."

"Go on," Mally said, not ready to be taken off track.

"Well…until you came to me personally, after I destroyed that…that _pilgar-lickering_ cat…I didn't know you felt bad about what you said to me before. About my 'nothingness.' Of course, you had said you wanted to apologize before…but I didn't think you meant it."

"I don't lie…unlike some."

"I know that…it was stupid of me. Everything was. I…I thought I understood our relationship…I thought it was a game. A contest. A matter of control…I was right…"

Behind him, unseen, the dormouse lowered her hand toward her blade…

"And wrong: yes, control is part of it, but it isn't one-sided. How could I even HOPE to control you? A creature as deadly as you are beautiful? As powerful as you are delicate? It would be like trying to cage the ocean, or box up the moon."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"It isn't flattery; it's fact. Trying to control you would be next to impossible. But I didn't realize that at first…by the time I did, it was too late to try and back out. I was like the fly caught on the frog's tongue, tripped up by my own ignorance. That's why I came up with that dance…that was my idea. I assume you've talked to Creole?"

"Yes."

"Hm. Anyway, that dance was my way of saying that I understood, more to myself than anyone else. You are mine…always. But I belong to you, and shall until my death, which may be soon, just as much as you belong to me."

The cat finished thus; all this time his gaze had been set on the water of the burbling brook. He hadn't turned to look at her once.

"Kill me if you want," he meowed. "I don't deserve life any more than I deserve you. I can't…I won't have you…any hope for…"

He broke off.

"Chessur…"

His heart rose slightly at the sound of her voice; it was softer, gentler now. Not forgiving, by any means, but not as steely as it had been before. He half-turned toward her, still staring at the ground.

"Chessur…what do you really want to say to me?"

Chess bit his lip, and took a deep breath. He turned toward her. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her face unreadable. His eyes held no doubt, and only the tiniest amount of fear, as he spoke the four words that should have been spoken long, long ago…"

_"Mally, I love you."_

Time slowed. Stopped. Her heart did a double-take. Her stomach flip-flopped. Her white fur became even paler than usual. Again.

And for completely different reasons.

Bill had told her before, but to hear him _say_ it…

Seeing a single tear slide down her cheek, the Cheshire Cat misunderstood completely. Unable to take anymore, he turned away, eyes closed hard to try and stop the tears that were now beginning to fall.

"_Take off! Forget me! Forget all of this! Leave me alone…forget everything…"_

The dormouse didn't hear a word he said. All she knew was that what he had just said…those four words, three of them the hardest to say in the universe…had been no lie.

For once, in the past…weeks? Months? Did it matter?...he had been honest.

And that honesty, that confession, was all that mattered.

_He loves me…he says he really loves me…_

Carefully, thinking if she moved too suddenly he'd vanish faster than the March Hare could run, she circled him until she was directly in front of him. He opened his teary, bleary, turquoise eyes briefly, then closed them again, turning them downward.

_"Go now…go now, and leave me…"_

She ignored him. Heart moving like an elevator in her chest – up in excitement, down in worry – she placed her small, white paws on his own large, gray ones. He sniffled, and opened his eyes, the optical orbs of blue-green pleading with her to leave as she tenderly moved them away from his face.

_"Pitiful creature of darkness…what kind of pain have you known?"_

He blinked, confused.

Was she…singing? To him?

Why?

She moved even closer, placing her paws against his face, wiping away some of the tears.

_"God, give me courage to show you…you are not alone…"_

Chessur pulled back slightly as she moved forward. He opened his mouth only a little, intending to ask her what she was trying to say, what she wanted to do…

His eyes widened. His claws sank into the mud. His breath caught fast in his chest. His fur bristled and his muscles, including his tail, all went taut.

She had kissed him.

Just a peck on the lips…at her size it was all she could manage…but it spoke volumes.

He blinked rapidly, bringing a paw to touch the spot where her whiskers had touched his. He looked at her then, too stunned to speak, eyes questioning, hopeful, and utterly overwhelmed.

She smiled wide, and kissed him a second time, this time holding her lips against his for as long as possible, not easy comparing the differences in their size.

This time Chessur melted into the kiss; he exhaled gently through his nose, ruffling her fur, every inch of him relaxing his eyes fluttering closed.

He remained like that, practically unconscious, for about a minute after she broke away. His eyes slowly opened again.

"M-M-Mally…? Wh-what…?"

She chuckled.

"Are you _really_ that dense, or is it just me?"

The cat did not reply; to him the question seemed elementary. Mally smiled, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around as much of his neck as she could. She sighed softly as she felt his paw slowly, gingerly, cup against her.

"I love you, Chess," she whispered. "More than I really care to admit to most people…at least right now. You've done a lot to me…but you've done so much for me, as well. You helped me with my father, you told me where Tarrant was and assisted me in getting to him when the Red Knights captured him, you sprung us both free when we were sentenced for execution…and you've saved my life in other ways more times than I can count."

Here she blushed and added, so quietly even his trained ears barely made out the words, "And you are the most handsome creature I have ever known. Period. So don't EVER try to change for me again."

The cat gulped, barely able to think.

"I…I love you, too, Mally," he said. "So I hope…"

"Hope what?"

He smirked, his infamous grin returning once more.

"So I hope you will permit me one last change."

Without warning, the fur and skin Mally held vanished into blue-gray mist. She stepped back a few paces as the mist condensed and swirled…

Chessur reappeared. He was still in the form of a cat…except that he was now barely a head taller than herself.

"Now _this_ is more like it," he purred, and moved towards her, clasping her paws in his. She inhaled sharply as he pulled her forward, embracing her, nuzzling her neck. "I've wanted to hold you like this for a long, long time…"

"Y-you could have done it long before now…"

"Shrunk? Yes. But not this…"

"Why…why not?"

He grinned even wider, not with mischief, but bashfulness.

"Too nervous," he meowed, and continued to nuzzle her.

She smiled, and leaned against him.

He pulled away from her after a few seconds, and looked into her eyes. Biting his lip, he leaned forward again; if she made any sign of protest or discomfort, he would stop.

She didn't move.

His heart leaped like a panther as she leaned up, and they exchanged a third, full kiss…one of them, or perhaps both of them, moaned softly as his rough tongue touched hers...

SWOOMPH.


	24. Chapter 24

Notes: This is just a notice to say that we are nearing the end of the story; counting this one, there are only between three and five chapters left. Also, NO, knaves, THIS IS NOT A LEMON. Citrus is better reserved to orchards and other writers. Now…

**Chapter XXIV: Dreams Mended…Partially…**

The first thing she was aware of when she awoke was that she was not lying in her usual bed.

Firstly, the walls of her teapot were hard porcelain, not soft and furry, like a pillow.

Second, her bed, like the walls, were not of fur, but of tea leaves.

Third, whatever she lay against was _purring._

About half a second after this last thought computed, she realized where she was, and smiled, instantly settling into a half-awake, nigh-euphoric state of mind.

She was _here…_with _him…_

She nuzzled the furry abdomen she lay upon affectionately, feeling her "bed" move up and down as the cat breathed, the soft, velvety pads of the paws covering her protectively warm and comforting.

She tried to recall the events of the evening before, but her hazy mind could find very little of interest outside the basics; after a night of what could only be described as divine passion, the cat had returned to his usual size, cupping his little love against him. Just before the blanket of sleep claimed them both, each managed to simultaneously utter a single, soft, one-syllable word: "Mine."

Now, laying against the cat's belly, she couldn't think of any other place she wanted to be. It was like being wrapped in a giant, fur blanket…that moved…

Absentmindedly, she patted his stomach. Instantly, his even, steady inhalations and exhalations became disturbed. His purrs slowly began to rise in volume, and she felt a light chill slap against her snow-furred spine, making her curl up even tighter against him. She looked up to face him…

In the darkness, all she could see was a pair of glowing blue-green cat's eyes and a wide, knife-toothed grin.

To any other dormouse, such a sight might make them faint dead away, or scream at the top of their lungs.

To her, it was beauty.

Chessur smiled even wider than usual as he peered down at his dormouse.

_So, it wasn't a dream…_

"Good morning, beautiful," he purred smoothly.

Mallymkun shivered happily.

"Hello, kitty," she retorted.

The cat chuckled. The vibrations were like a massage. Mally giggled and closed her eyes again, laying her head against him and nuzzling his belly a second time. Chessur cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

_She's almost...cat-like when she does that._

"I don't believe I've seen you so relaxed, love...not recently, anyway..."

Mally opened one eye, but didn't look at him.

"I don't feel 'relaxed' at all," she said. "I feel like...there's bread-&-butterflies flitting about in my stomach."

Chess nodded.

"I know how that feels."

"Literally or figuratively."

"Both."

Mally closed her eye again, smiling just a tad wider. Chessur smirked and leaned in towards her, lapping at his tongue against the top of her head. His stomach let out a tremendous growl as her taste registered in his brain.

He ignored it as best he could, the desire to eat the beauty in his paws long past.

"You are extraordinarily succulent this morning, dormousey," he purred huskily. "Did you cover yourself in strawberries or something before I woke up?"

Mally giggled madly.

"No," she said. "You just woke up with a hungry belly."

As if in agreement, the stomach beneath her grumbled again, causing a slight amount of pain. The cat stroked it with one paw, biting his lip.

"Yes, well, I was so depressed yesterday I didn't eat a bite...it makes sense I'd be starving right now."

Mally just shrugged, reaching out a paw, intending to stroke his cheek...

Then let out a shrill, wordless squeak when she realized she was still unclothed.

Normally, being unclothed in front of the cat wouldn't be a problem...but things seemed...different now. She stared up, her face violet-red, trying to bury herself in his fur.

The cat laughed aloud.

_She looks adorable like this..._

_ Probably best not to tell her that._

"Your clothes are over there, love," he said, indicating a corner of the room by the bookcase. "I won't peek."

Mally nodded quickly, jumped off of the cat's empty stomach, and darted over to the bookcase, while Chessur covered his eyes.

"Okay," squeaked the dormouse a moment later, "you can look now."

Chess uncovered his eyes, gazing upon Mally intently, the white dormouse once again dressed in her usual pink blouse, skirt, breeches, and apron, her belt, scabbard, and blade once again in their proper place at her side and around her waist. The dormouse raised an eyebrow, the giddiness of half-asleep-world lost to her now.

"What are you thinking, Chess?"

The cat smiled seductively.

"How truly delicious you look _without_ those clothes."

Mallymkun rolled her eyes.

"If I hadn't wanted last night since Frighetnacht, I would have had you castrated with a tablespoon..."

"Ouch."

"I'm joking, cat."

"I know," said Chess, then added under his breath, "but it would still hurt like _henfan..."_

Mally smirked.

Then her own slim, cream-furred stomach let out an indelicate growl of complaint of its own. She placed a paw to it and smiled with embarrassment. The cat smirked.

"Looks like my stomach isn't the only one that needs filling," he hissed.

"Apparently. What have you got to eat?"

"Besides you?"

Mally's smile was gone in a flash.

"Too soon, Chess."

"Sorry...seriously, though, I have a few things. I usually hunt for my breakfast, but, due to the nature of the morning, I suppose I can whip up something. I'm not up to the March Hare's caliber, but I don't think I'm terrible, either..."

"Could you make drop-scones?"

"Certainly," purred the Cheshire Cat. He stretched, like only a cat can, his claws extending and then retracting, and rose from his bed, moving over to his stove and cupboards. Mally followed him and jumped up onto the counter beside him as he began to pull ingredients and utensils out.

"Chessur?"

"Hm?"

"I'm not angry."

The cat's smile, which had diminished slightly in width, returned to its usual size. His purrs were louder than the engine of a motorcar.

"I think we had better have breakfast quickly, and get over to the windmill," he said, seeing the rift had been joined once more. "As much as I'd love to keep you all to myself..."

"You selfish feline..."

"True, but you love me anyway."

The dormouse shrugged.

"Anyway," the cat went on, "I'm sure the Hare and the Hatter are worried sick about you...they might be searching the woods as we speak."

"Well, then we'll just have to settle their scrambled minds, won't we?"

The cat turned away from the cupboard, smiling affectionately at her.

"I love you, dormousey," he said simply.

"I know," said Mallymkun, and kissed his paw.

Chessur shuddered with delight at the touch of her lips.

_I hope this 'kissing' thing doesn't get old...I can't get enough..._


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter XXV: Surprising, Isn't It?**

"MALLY!"

"GAE! MALLY!"

The Mad Hatter and the March Hare's calls echoed throughout Tulgey Woods.

Both of them had seen how upset – that word being an understatement – Mallymkun the Dormouse had been when she had run out of Marmoreal at the ruined Danksderim Day ball.

She had still not returned to the tea table, the day following the day after, and, naturally, the two of them were very worried.

Especially with a certain cat clearly stalking her…

They had agreed to meet at a tum-tum tree near the hill, which sloped down from the woods to the tea table.

Both were walking backwards as they returned to the tree in question.

"MALLY!" they cried out in unison, then, hearing two voices, turned to see the other owner, and yelped with surprise when they realized who it was.

"Oh…Thackery, it's just you…"

"Aye. An' it's jus' ye. Didja fynd Mally?"

Tarrant's eyes turned yellow-orange.

"Would I have come here without her if I had?"

The March Hare shrugged. Both of them sighed.

"I hope she's all right…"

"Aye. Meh, too."

_"Slurking_ cat," the Hatter snarled, eyes fully orange now. "Wy can't he jus' leave 'er aloon?"

The Hare didn't respond. Hatter sighed again.

"Well…let's get back to the windmill; if we're lucky, she'll be there already."

The Hare nodded, perhaps a bit too eager to get back to his tea party, and began to walk off. The Hatter lagged behind him, taking a few seconds to look into the trees before following.

Thackery Earwicket was glad to return to his table, especially if the dormouse might be there…yet once the Hare came to the top of the hill, he froze.

And shook.

Eyes pale blue, Tarrant looked at him with concern.

"Thackery? What is it?"

"C-C-C-C-C-C…"

"Whatever's wrong? Talker stuck?"

"C-C-C-Ca-Ca-C-Ca…"

"Thackery, can't you speak? Cat got your tongue?"

"AYE! _C-C-CAT!"_

Eyes wide, the Hatter ran up to the top of the hill, and looked down.

For a second, his eyes narrowed went red, as he spotted a familiar, gray, black, and blue striped Cheshire Cat grinning up at him, stirring the tea in his cup with a black, glossy claw…

Then turned yellow with confusion when he spotted an equally familiar, small, white dormouse, dressed in pink, smiling up, holding her own tiny teacup in her snow-furred paws.

"Ah! There you two are!" Mallymkun said. "We were wondering when you'd show up!"

"Won't you join us?" purred the Cheshire Cat, and the two clinked their cups together in a toast, smiling at each other with affection as they did.

For a second, the Hare and the Hatter just stood at the top of the hill, frozen in place.

Then…

"M-M-M-MALLY!"

Mallymkun squeaked as the March Hare tackled her to the ground, holding her against his chest, his paws clasped around her like she was a doll, whimpering.

"Th-Thackery…!" she gasped out, winded.

"I thought ye were gone furever…!" the Hare half-sobbed.

"She's here, Hare," Chessur drawled. "But she won't be breathing long if you don't let go of her."

Thackery looked up at the cat, eyes wide, and nodded.

"Och, aye!" he piped, and released the dormouse, who looked at him with an expression that wasn't quite a frown and wasn't quite a smirk as she straightened herself up primly and returned to her seat.

"Well," she said, addressing Chessur, "If I had known they'd be this worried…"

"It's Thackery, Mally," Chess whispered, a twinkle in his eyes. "I suspect this isn't the first time he's greeted you like this since…you-know-what happened."

Mally shrugged and drank from her cup. The cat chuckled and did the same. The Hare, eyeing the cat uneasily, settled into his own chair; a gray dormouse he felt comfortable beside…but he always felt crowded beside the cat…

Tarrant approached much more slowly, his eyes resembling a Wintreon Pine; green with splotches of red and gold.

"What's going on here then?" he asked, eyes flicking from the dormouse to the Cheshire Cat and then back again.

Mally smiled.

"We're having tea, of course!"

"What else?" hissed the cat, raising an eyebrow.

The Hatter mimicked the movement.

"What I meant was…"

Suddenly he slammed his fists on the table, making the Hare jump.

"WY IS TH' _GUDDLER'S-SCUTTISH_ CAT _'ERE?"_

Mallymkun and Chessur blinked at him with dull eyes.

"Because we're in love," Mally said. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Indeed," Chess said.

These two, simple statements were enough to make the Hare and the Hatter stare unblinking at them for a while. The red in the Hatter's eyes was gone; his eyes were pastel yellow. He was utterly overwhelmed, his mouth opening and closing, but no words coming out.

The Hare, meanwhile, let out a deep breath and fainted dead away, his face colliding with a scone.

All three looked at the unconscious Hare for about two seconds, then looked at each other again.

"All right," Tarrant sighed after a moment longer, straightening up, eyes neon green again, placing his hands on his hips. "I give up: explain, please."

"Shall I tell him?" Mally asked in an overly solemn voice, looking at the cat with an overly solemn face.

The cat had difficulty looking solemn, due to his permanent smile, but did his best.

"If you feel you must," he purred.

"Where shall I begin?"

"As the Red King once said, start at the beginning."

Mally shrugged.

"Chess here thought I hated him after he tried to kill me, so he thought he'd make it up to me by being something he wasn't…a plan that failed. He has promised never to lead me on like that again, and we've…slept together…"

Here the Hatter's eyes went _very_ wide.

"…Anyway, I've forgiven him, and we're in love. We haven't any ring, but we intend to get married soon. That about covers it. Any questions, Tarrant?"

For a second the Hatter was silent.

"Two," he said at last.

"Go ahead."

"First, may I speak with you, Chess? In private?"

The cat gulped, his composure breaking for the first time. Mally glared suspiciously.

"Promise not to hurt him, Hatter?" she said.

"I promise," Hatter said, seriously.

Mally nodded, and turned to Chess.

"Go talk with him," she said. "If he tries to turn you into a doily for the table, come get me. I'll wake up Thackery."

Chessur nodded, setting down his teacup and floating into the air. The Hatter waved a hand for the Cheshire Cat to follow him. The cat looked over at Mally, winked, and floated after the Mad Hatter as they headed for the windmill.

The dormouse was glad the cat couldn't see her blush, as she went to pour some tea on the Hare's nose…

The pained cry of the awakened Hare was the last thing the cat heard before the Hatter shut the door. Chessur settled, curled up like a housecat, on a small, rattle-legged table.

"Well?" he purred. "What do you want to say?"

"First of all," the Hatter said, his voice very grave, arms crossed over his chest. "I want you to know that, despite what you may think, I'm happy for you two. I always thought you'd make a nice couple…I just didn't think it would ever be true…"

He paused.

"And?" Chess pressed.

"And," Tarrant said, eyes darkening, "if you hurt her like that again, by the Frabjous Day, I swear, they will never find your bones."

The cat's eyes widened for a moment, then returned to normal.

"You needn't worry, Tarrant," he said softly. "I've learned my lesson all too well; I'll be good."

"You'd better be," the Hatter replied. "I forgive you this time; if she does, so do I. But I love her, too...just not in the same way you do. As miraculously strong and brave as she is, there are some things she simply can't handle…"

Here he smirked.

"And, as you and I know, her one fatal flaw is that she doesn't know when to quit, if ever."

The cat raised an eyebrow.

"Out of insatiable curiosity, how do you care for her?"

The Hatter lowered his eyes to the floor.

"I care about different people different ways: Alice is like a sister to me. Mally's the same way…I'm still not sure whether they're twins, or if one's older than the other…"

"How do you care about _me?"_ Chess meowed innocently, batting his eyes.

Tarrant's smirk returned to his face.

"You and Thackery are both like brothers to me…you're the most obnoxious one."

This fact pleased the cat, if his grin was any indication.

"Is that all, Tarrant?" he purred.

"Yes," the Hatter said with a nod. "Now let's return to your lady, shall we?"

The cat was glad the dormouse was not around to see his face turn faintly red.

When the Cheshire Cat and the Mad Hatter returned to the tea table, the Hare was holding a napkin over his burnt nose, scowling at Mally half-heartedly, while she smiled at him mischievously over the rim of her cup.

"Think of it as payback, Hare," she said.

"Yer a _mean_ li'l dormoose…"

"Yes, I am, Thackery."

The Hatter and the cat couldn't repress chuckles as they approached, and sat down. Tarrant took his usual seat at the head of the table, while Chess drifted down into a chair next to his dormouse.

"Are you two finished, then?" Mally asked, and then tried to shove the thought of how utterly ridiculous the question was out of her head.

"Yes, Mally, we are," Tarrant said. "And I have one more thing to ask…"

"What's that, Hatter?"

Tarrant smiled and pulled a few white lace handkerchiefs and some scissors out of his coat.

"When do you want your dress ready?"


	26. Chapter 26

Notes: "Thus grew the tale of Wonderland: Thus slowly, one by one, its quaint events were hammered out…and now the tale is done, and home we steer; a merry crew, beneath the setting sun." Faithful readers, we have come to the end of our tale. But do not despair…a sequel is on the way! There is one last quote from _Phantom of the Opera_, again rewritten for story purposes, contained here. I own it not.

Before we come to the beginning of the end, I would like to thank fellow authors and friends katzsoa and Niphuria again, for, as the infamous Joker would put it, "their undying support." To Niphuria, I say hello…still haven't heard from you…

Ahem…anyway, let the curtains rise one last time for…

**Chapter XXVI: "The Love-Gift of a Fairy-Tail"…er, I mean, "Tale"**

Mallymkun sighed with mixed emotions.

_I look like a cake doll…_

Were she but taller, one might take her for a ghost; the white lace dress and veil the Mad Hatter had made her felt…strange on her, and the milky color seemed to come straight from her, with her equally white fur.

As she fluffed out the dress, with a slight frown, she picked up her belt. Patricial Longsig and Alice were with her. The goose eyed her curiously.

"What're ye puttin' tha' on for?"

"I prefer to be prepared, Pat."

"You look lovely, Mallymkun," Alice whispered with a smile. "Chess will be stunned."

Mally smirked.

"I doubt it; he'll just want me back out of it as fast as possible."

A different little thought struck the dormouse and she looked around.

"That blasted cat better not think of coming in here…" she muttered.

"He knows better," Alice said. "Well…I hope he does…"

Mally shrugged and took a look in the mirror again.

"Do you really think he'll like it?" she whispered.

"If he don't," Pat said with a grin, "I'll retire to an Overland feast."

Mally blushed.

"Don't tease," she squeaked.

Pat shrugged.

"Is Bill here yet, Pat?" Alice asked.

"I s'pect 'e's already out there, Ms. Alice."

"Good," Alice said. "You had better go change, yourself."

Pat nodded with a honk, and waddled away.

Alice reached down, fussing over the veil.

"I didn't think it would all be such a…ruckus," Mally mumbled, flinching away from the human girl's fingers slightly.

Alice smirked.

"It's even worse where I come from, trust me."

"I do…so, how different does this wedding look compared to ones in your world?"

Alice thought for a moment, then let out a short chuckled.

"Aside from the fact the bride, groom, and a good deal of others in attendance are all animals, not much."

Mally fixed her belt around her waist firmly, and checked her weapon, pulling it out and twirling it. Alice raised an eyebrow.

"Do you really feel you have to take that with you, Mally?"

Mally glared at her with annoyance.

"This little pin and Chess have a lot in common," she said. "Both have gotten me into trouble just as often as they've gotten me out of it. The only difference is that this pin-sword cannot change its shape; if I'm getting married, I'm taking it with me."

So saying, the dormouse sheathed her weapon. Alice smiled.

"Well, it's your wedding…and I'm sure Chessur won't mind."

"He won't; he knows me too well."

Alice giggled.

"I'll be back soon, Mally," she said. "I need to speak with Mirana about something."

Mally nodded and Alice left the room.

As soon as the Overlandian girl was gone, she let out an immense sigh, taking off her veil and headpiece, and dropped unceremoniously into a chair.

_If I had known a wedding was this much of a to-do, I don't think I would have bothered…_

The second word got out that Mallymkun, leader of the White Queen's guards, human and animal alike, and Chessur, the most infamous of Cheshire Cats, were to be married, all of Underland had been in an uproar. Mirana and Alice had insisted on a party, and it didn't help that the Mad Hatter saw such an event as a chance to show off some of his new designs for hats and dresses and suits, designs he had not been able to unveil at the oddly-forgotten Danksderim Ball. Mally was not used to so much attention; her head felt like it was a bottle-cork on a screw.

She scowled at her reflection; prettiness was a compliment she frequently received, and only half-believed, even when it was given by Chess…but it was a state she didn't think she could ever get used to. A soldier needed to be ready for action, prepared for anything…not dressed up like one of the White Queen's roses.

Of course, Chessur didn't mind, she realized, and smiled as she thought of him, despite herself. His presence, once so often found irritating, became grand; between kisses from his little lady and the gentle touch of human hands on his head, right where it _really_ felt nice to be scratched and pet…he felt he could die a happy cat at any moment.

He'd told her so.

Her reverie was startled by a voice behind her.

_"I liked you better in pink…"_

She whipped around, eyes wide when she realized the voice was male.

They grew even wider when she saw who the voice belonged to.

A tall, lean-muscled figure, about the same height and build as Tarrant Hightopp, stood in the doorway. He was dressed completely in black, from his wide-brimmed hat to his dark cloak and gloves to the ebony trousers and shoes on his bottom half. He carried a black cane, topped with a silver skull, which was in turn topped with a top hat, carved from emerald, with a diamond "tag" reading "10/6" inscribed in it. His eyes, barely visible, were obsidian, and he smiled, his teeth resembling a wild dog's.

Mally stared at Exxe for a while, then looked at her mirror.

No reflection of any kind.

She turned back toward him, a bit more calm, one eyebrow raised.

"I've got to learn that trick," she said, indicating the mirror.

Exxe's draped shoulders moved in a shrug.

_"Mirrors require things of definite appearance; I shift, therefore, I half-am."_

"You realize visiting the bride before the ceremony is…"

She stopped abruptly, noticing the bored, frank look in his dark eyes.

"…Probably not something you'll lose sleep over."

_"Of course not; I don't sleep."_

Mally blinked.

"At all?"

_"At all."_

"Oh," was all the dormouse said, and turned away again, picking up her veil and head piece and pretending to smooth them out. "So, what are you doing here?"

_"I knew you two would be married eventually; I just had to wait. I would think you'd be expecting me at such an important time of your mortal, mousey life."_

Mally smirked.

"Actually, I was…but I didn't expect you to make an actual appearance. Usually you just come to me while I'm sleeping. Does anyone know you are here?"

_"Time has kindly allowed me time to speak with you, stopping time for everyone else. Your ceremony is about to begin. Precisely five seconds after I take my leave, Billnor Creole will knock on the door and fetch you."_

Mally nodded, and half-turned towards him, away from the mirror.

"'They both love you…and they both don't. And one of them is in the middle. The three are circles, intertwined, like rings of fate and romance. One knows what to do, another follows orders, two follow their heart, but it is leading them both astray. The fourth is you, and she knows what to do…she just doesn't know it YET.' You were trying to tell me about the fact Chessur was Russehc, right? And that Bill was helping him?"

_"Indeed. I knew it would do little, if any, good, but I thought it was worth a shot."_

Mally smiled.

"Thank you, anyway," she said.

Exxe smiled back.

_"The story isn't over,"_ he said. _"Hearts are tried again and again…you, of all people, know that. Until your death, my work will never be completed. Even after that, you will not hear the last of me…any of yourself."_

Mally rolled her eyes.

"Well," she said, "it could be worse; life isn't any thrill without your unexpected appearances."

Exxe smiled.

_"Until we meet again,"_ he said, _"when what might be your greatest trial occurs…congratulations, and goodbye."_

And he was gone.

Mally grinned, placing her veil back on.

_One…two…three…four…_

TAP-TAP-TAP.

_Five._

"Come in, Bill," Mally called.

The door opened, and the gecko walked in. He was dressed in a white tuxedo, his saber at his side, a medal on his lapel.

"Are you ready?"

"As ready as possible."

Bill grinned and walked up closer. Both dormouse and teacher looked each other up and down.

"You look like a flower," he said flatly.

"So do you."

"Yes…if there is one thing I hate about weddings, it's the formality…"

Here he eyed the pin-sword at her hip and smirked.

"…Although in my case, my weapon is carried by tradition. Paranoid much, my dear?"

"No. Just cautious."

Bill chuckled.

"I taught you too well," he said, and took her by the hand. "Come now; your precious kitty is waiting for his favorite poison."

Mally smiled.

"Anything you want to say to me beforehand, Master Creole?"

Bill grinned, straightening his back and lifting a scaly finger commandingly.

"As I said when your first lesson began, after you proved yourself to me: look up, speak politely, for once, and don't twiddle your fingers all the time."

And he led her out of the room.

The chapel of Marmoreal Palace was filled with guests; most were courtiers the dormouse didn't know, all dressed in white and blue and gray. A few familiar faces were clear; Alice sat beside the March Hare, she dressed in a long, blue dress and red lipstick with diamond earrings, and the Hare dressed in a suit not unlike the one he had worn to the Danksderim Masquerade. (As at the Masquerade, he could not seem to get his tie to cooperate.) Nivens McTwisp was dressed in a White Page's uniform. (Not entirely different from the outfit of a Red Page, but lined in blue rather than red, with the images of a silver Bishop, Knight, Rook, and Pawn in place of Suit symbols.) He sat beside Pat. Tweedledum waved to her, only for his arm to be pulled back down by Tweedledee; the boys were in their usual outfits, but had washed them so well they looked different in them even so. They wore blue sailor-esque hats with white bands.

She waved back, eliciting a smirk from Bill.

Uileam the Dodo and Humpty Dumpty the Librarian sat beside each other. Both were dressed in tuxedos like Bill's, only adjusted for their…unusual proportions. Humpty Dumpty had his nose in a book, as usual, but Uileam brought him back to the land of the living by tapping him with his cane. The shell-like skin of the eggman was lucky not to crack, and the librarian smacked the bird across the beak.

Dormyla the Mouse With the Long, Sad Tail was dressed in garish pink, as usual, and seemed to only be there at the insistence of the Queen. She glanced at Mallymkun quickly, and turned away to put on some lipstick.

Mally just a rolled her eyes.

Then the music – a soft, haunting, lullaby-like song traditional at all Underlandian weddings – began to play, and Bill whispered, "Let's go."

As they walked down the aisle, Mally tried hard to ignore the stares of those around her, head down in embarrassment.

Tarrant had joyfully accepted the role as Best Hatter; he wore his best suit of clothes, his trademark hat held over his heart, his fingers drumming it nervously, that jovial, gap-toothed smile twitching occasionally from emotion. His uneven eyes fairly glowed, and she saw him quickly dash away a tear from one with a single, scratched finger.

The White Queen oversaw the proceedings, as was proper, but wore nothing different than her usual white and silver robes and dress. She smiled warmly at the dormouse, and then turned her face to the left quickly, to smile at Chessur.

As for the Cheshire Cat…Mally chuckled at the irony; he wore the same elegant black jacket and bow tie he had worn on the thrilling Frighetnacht that had truly begun everything, his outfit missing only the cape and mask. If she was mortified by the attention, he was filled with pride, his paws, bearing those impeccable white gloves, folded behind his back. He winked at her playfully, making her feel all the more bashful.

_I didn't think it would be this nerve-wracking, either…for the sake of madness, I know all of them! What is there to be nervous about?_

Thinking this didn't really steel her much more at all.

Finally she reached the end of the aisle, and the cat stood beside her.

"You look ravishing this way," he purred quietly to her.

"Likewise," she replied.

This only served to make him purr louder.

Mirana, who had heard the exchange, smiled at them, and took up a small black book from under her arm. She opened it up and cleared her throat.

"Dearly beloved, and demented, we are gathered here today to witness the union between this cat, and this dormouse. An odd union perhaps, but, truly, what is stranger than love? What drives one to give up what they truly long for to be with another? What makes them decide that the thoughts of others, and even nature, matter less than the desire to have that one they want to be with? Perhaps it is the same mysterious forces that decide these matters that choose to make a dormouse a soldier, or a cat a rescuer."

She paused impressively.

"I speak now not as Queen, not as an official, but as a friend of these two lovers: ever since they became friends, they have guarded one another, kept each other safe, and through the trials of life – including those caused by themselves and inflicted upon each other – they have remained loyal to each other. As friendship has become love, I know for a fact this will not change. While their legends may not be of such great renown as our Champion's…"

Here she gestured toward Alice, who inclined her head slightly, but said nothing.

"…Their stories, soon to become _story,_ will be remembered for all time. Cats and mice have always had an…interesting relationship, but this is by far the strangest, and strongest, one of all."

She paused again.

"If anybody here feels reason to object to this union, speak now."

Nobody made a sound…except for Thackery Earwicket, whose tie came undone again, causing him to let out a short, Outlandish curse. He fell silent at the looks the Queen and Alice both shot him.

Chess and Mally looked at each other and smirked, then turned to face the Queen again.

Rolling her eyes and taking a deep breath, Mirana regained her composure and smiled once again at the cat and mouse, making a slight gesture with one hand. Both nodded simultaneously, and turned to face each other. The cat picked her up in one paw and held her before him, while she stood upon it, so they could look at each other more directly.

"Chessur the Cheshire Cat, do you take Mallymkun as yours, in sickness, health, and danger, in good and bad times, until death do you part, so help you God?"

Chess grinned wider.

"Until death?" he whispered, and then said, "I do, indeed."

Mally smiled back.

"Mallymkun the Dormouse, do you take Chessur as yours-"

"I do!" she squeaked, and then, realizing what had happened, blushed and looked at the Queen apologetically.

"I do," she repeated, more softly.

The White Queen chuckled.

"In that case, by the power vested in me…by Alice…"

All present laughed softly. (Except for the Hatter, who giggled madly, but covered it up quickly with a cough, and Bill, who remained perfectly silent.)

"I now pronounce you Cat and Mouse."

There was another pause. The Queen giggled and waved a hand at the two.

"Well? Aren't you going to kiss?"

Both shrugged. The cat gave her a peck of a kiss on the head, while the dormouse pecked him on the cheek.

All applauded.

Except for one.

Bill quietly left the chapel, walking down the hall.

He smiled at the music box in his hand, listening to the chimes it made nostalgically.

_"They alone can make this song take flight…it's just begun, the Music of the Night!"_


	27. Chapter 27

Notes: Okay, explanation time: just when I thought _Paper Faces _was finished, and had put up the first chapter of the sequel…this epilogue came into mind. I may take it away, depending on reviews…but I won't promise anything right now. Also, even though a sequel is up now, I don't know how soon updates on it will come. If anyone has a suggestion, or desire, for me to write a one-shot, or wants to write a one-shot/lemon/alternate version/etc. of the story themselves, contact me, via review or private messaging, and I will see about it...this does not mean I'll do it, or give permission, mind you, but if you write something without permission, and I do not like it, know that I WILL report you. (If I DO like it, and you don't have permission...well, I'll think about it. It's still plagiarism.)

…Not much else to say. So it is we turn to…

**Epilogue: Fabulous Monsters**

A small, scholarly dormouse in a green vest sat beside a tree, reading an equally small book.

Above him, a pair of glowing, blue-green eyes watched him with interest.

Just below them, a wide grin stretched out in space.

_Some creatures just never learn…_

"Pardon me," purred a voice. "Have we met?"

The dormouse looked up. The instant it saw those bright cat's eyes, it squeaked and dropped its book breaking into a run.

_Oh, madness…not again!_

The Cheshire Cat materialized fully, grinning hugely. Even if he hadn't been expecting such a reaction, he wouldn't have cared; it was more fun when they tried to run away.

He swirled away in a wisp of blue-gray mist.

The green-vested rodent turned, and, seeing nothing, smiled slightly, thinking he'd managed to-

THUD.

The dormouse toppled over as he collided with something…furry…

Fixing his glasses, he looked up in horror.

It was the cat. It smirked, amused.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?"

The dormouse only tried to stand up and run away again.

With a sigh, the cat vanished and met it on the way again. He growled at touched his stomach; a mouse running into it full-speed was not helping it hurt any less…it already ached from hunger.

And he was in a hurry.

Before the dormouse could stand again, he placed a paw down on it.

"I seem to recall seeing you in my territory not so long ago," he purred casually, picking it up by the collar of its vest. The creature gulped, trying to break free.

"N-not I!" it squeaked. "It m-m-must have been somebody else!"

Chess raised an eyebrow.

"No…no, I'm fairly sure you are the same one. Same vest, same glasses…"

He sniffed at its fur and purred louder.

"…Same scrumptious scent…"

The dormouse shivered.

"I-I've n-n-never seen you before…wh-why don't you l-leave me alone?"

The cat's eyes narrowed.

"Two reasons: one, because I know we've met, and I do not hold liars in high regard. And two…"

He licked its face, making it squeak with both fear and indignation.

"…I don't really care if we've met or not. As of now, you are my breakfast."

So saying, he dropped it back onto the ground. It stood up fast, only be batted by a paw into a tree. Its glasses cracked, the creature yelped from pain as its tender head smacked against the trunk. It looked up with bleary eyes at the cat, who approached casually, purring with pleasure…

Shakily, the dormouse tried to rise again…only to be pressed into the ground once again.

"I'm so sorry to finish our little game so fast," purred the cat, "But I have a little lady waiting for me, and I'd hate to disappoint her. You understand, of course…'circle of life,' 'welcome to the food chain,' et cetera?"

The rodent only whimpered.

"I thought so."

Chessur laughed, and leaned in, meaning to bite out its throat…

"Um…Chess?"

He froze.

_Oh, henfan…not again._

Slowly, he turned to the source of the new voice.

As he had suspected, a small, white furred dormouse in a pink skirt peeked up at him from behind a cluster of tall grass.

"Run!" screamed the male beneath him. "Run, while you still have time!"

But Mallymkun did no such thing. She looked at the male quickly, and then turned back to the cat, who stared with wide eyes.

"Am I interrupting you?" she asked quietly.

Chessur took a deep breath to calm his instincts.

"Yes," he hissed softly.

Mally nodded.

"I woke up, and you weren't around…I came looking for you. It never occurred to me you'd be…er…"

"Hunting."

"Yeah…that."

"You're not…upset, are you?"

Mally shrugged.

"Not really, no," she admitted. "You need meat. But…since I really don't want to see the rest of this little scene, could you let this one go? For me?"

The cat hesitated, eyeing the terrified, and now utterly bewildered dormouse in his paws with an air of suspicion.

"…Please?"

Glancing quickly at his little love, he sighed, relenting, and lifted his paw, moving over to her.

"Oh, well," he said with mock disappointment. "Easy come, easy go…I'm sorry I left you like that…"

"It's fine," she said softly, hugging his neck as much as she could. "Do you want to continue, or can we go home? We still need to pick up my teapot…"

Chess thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"No…I'll hunt tonight," he said. "We can have breakfast at the windmill. Together."

Mally responded by giving him a kiss on the cheek. He smirked, and touched a paw to the area.

The dormouse in the vest, who had – quite stupidly – not run off yet, glared at the cat.

"You cold-hearted cat," he whispered to himself. "Monster…such cruel deception, towards a lady like her. You should-"

The cat, who had heard his mutterings, was just about to whip around and give a few nice, deep cuts for the insults…

But didn't get the chance.

The male cried out as something white and pink tackled him to the ground. A pin-sword was at his neck.

"Let me make something clear to you," snarled Mallymkun, eyes blazing. "I only saved you because I wanted him all to myself…and when he goes on a killing spree, I have to wait. I'll let a lot of things slide. You can call him cold-hearted; he can be. You can call him deceitful; once again, he can be…I know that better than anyone. But the very _jiffy_ you call him a monster…"

The dormouse gasped aloud as a trickle of blood ran down his neck.

"…He's the least of your problems."

The male only stared up in shock.

Mally smiled darkly.

"I am going to let you up now," she said slowly, as if she was talking to a child. "Once I do, I'll give you until the count of five to get out of my sight, or he gets a kabob for breakfast. Understood?"

The scholarly nodded carefully, so as not to cut himself any deeper with the blade at his throat.

"Good," Mally said, and stood. The male rose instantly. He stared at Mally with confusion and horror.

After a moment, her smile widened.

"OnetwothreefourFIVE!"

The male squeaked, and vanished behind a bush, just as a pin-sword embedded itself in the dirt where he had stood.

Mally frowned, pulling her blade out of the ground and cleaning it on her apron before replacing it in its sheath. She turned to the cat again.

The cat stared, speechless for a while.

"…Jiffy?" he said at last, unable to think of anything else.

"A jiffy is an actual unit of time," Mallymkun said, matter-of-factly. "It's about one-sixtieth of a second, if I recall correctly…"

Chessur chuckled.

"I love you."

"Right back at you. Let's go, okay?"

Chess nodded, and held out a paw. Mally climbed up his arm and sat on his back.

And the cat floated into the air, and flew away with her.

He would hunt later; right now, they were together. And that was what mattered most.


End file.
